Adrift
by WolfKael
Summary: Sam's parents are on a cruise, and have taken their daughter with them - with her boyfriend, Danny Fenton too! It's SUPPOSED to be just a calming vacation for Spring Break of Senior Year; with no ghosts. Sequel to the popular "Journey of Secrets," and the second installment of a trilogy! Ongoing. T because I'm paranoid. Disclaimer: Characters not mine. I am not Butch Hartman.
1. No Ghosts

**A/N: Well…that didn't take me very long. I thought I was going to take a break, but…guess not. I'll be starting a job soon, so I probably won't be updating this as often, but then again, I seem to be addicted to writing. We'll see how things pan out; I'll try to update daily until I'm unable. Anyway…Welcome to "Adrift"! This fic is definitely focused on Danny/Sam and Sam's parents…yeah, they're main characters this time. Tuck, Val, and the Fentons will be getting relatively little screentime, but I love (my take on) Tucker too much to leave him out, so I'm sure we'll get some occasional updates on what they're doing throughout the story.**

**If you haven't read my first DP fic, "Journey of Secrets," I would suggest doing so. Really. I mean it. Go. You'll probably get lost without it…**

**Without further ado: Chapter #1. You know the drill! Read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #1:

"This is going to be _awful_. I just _know_ it."

The salty sea air is cool against their skin, but the sun beats down from above, earning a scowl from the black-clad girl standing beside a spiderweb-patterned suitcase. Beside her is a young man with black hair, a bright smile, and similarly bright blue eyes.

"Come on, Sam," he laughs, "It's a week-long cruise; our final Spring Break as high school students spent on the ocean!"

"Under the sun…with _my parents,_" she growls.

"Think of the adventure!" he slings an arm around her shoulder, "The…romance of it all!"

"_With my parents,_" she repeats emphatically.

He sighs, hanging his head in defeat, "It won't be _that_ bad. I mean, we could be on the Titanic."

"Don't even _joke_, ghost-boy," she hisses, "you'll jinx us!"

"You can take the door," he smiles.

"That isn't even funny!"

"Sam," he laughs, "I'm a ghost with _ice powers_. I think I can handle a bit of ice-water."

She glares back, clearly unamused until a scene of the two of them cuddling in front of an oceanic sunset graces her mind. She can't fight the smile trying to climb onto her face, making his grin wider until she surrenders.

"You're such a dork," she laughs.

"And I'm _all_ yours," he grins, "No school, no ghosts, nothing for the rest of the week."

She can't deny that the prospect entertains her, thinking of days relaxing with Danny. Curling next to him on deck at night, keeping warm – she doesn't know how he does that when his core body temperature is lower than hers – and not having to listen to Paulina ooze about _her precious ghost-boy!_ She smiles, but her joy slips away as she catches a girl admiring the black-haired eye-candy beside her. She frowns, glaring in the bottle-blond's direction, and latches possessively to her boyfriend's arm.

"Sam?"

She pulls his face down, locking her lips with his, _::Don't worry about it.::_

_::…What?::_

_::I'll keep those surgically-modified Barbies away. Don't worry your pretty head.::_

_::Surgically-modified…?::_ the image of the girl from earlier flashes through his mind from hers, _::…oh. I didn't even notice. I was too preoccupied with the lovely vampiress on my arm.::_

_::Good boy,:: _she pulls away, enjoying the dazed smile on his face, and glares pointedly at the blond, who looks away as though she never cared.

"Must you two do that…in public?"

Pamela Manson, all five-foot-five of her, grimaces at the pair. Her red hair is perfectly curled, framing her face despite the elegant, woven sun-hat shading her face and large white sunglasses. She wears a matching sundress and strappy heels with her pearls; overall, in the sunlight, she's blinding.

Her husband, Jeremy, at five-ten, is carefully groomed as always. His blond hair is slicked back, and he wears a white, long-sleeved shirt – designer-brand – and grey slacks. A pair of designer shades is tucked into his chest pocket. His slate-blue eyes stare disapprovingly at his daughter, with her arm latched around her boyfriend.

"I was staking my claim," Sam declares proudly.

_::Stake it anytime you want,::_ Danny thinks, sounding almost breathless.

"Well, surely she would have gotten the hint with all of your…clinging," she sighs. Concentrating, the goth can pick up on the emotions and thoughts swimming from her, though only in pieces, _::Him…why? Ugh. She's a teenager…drop him…won't last…hurt someday::_ Worry filters through her distaste, an emotion shared by her father. His disgust is more feigned than his wife's, but his worry is just as real.

Since gaining telepathy, she's learned a lot about her parents; particularly her father. He's not as prim and proper as his wife would like to believe, but follows her lead. If he thought she'd let him get away with it, he'd be in Bermuda shorts and flip-flops. He may not particularly adore Danny, but he doesn't hate him either. He just feels like it's his job to intimidate the boyfriend, as though his wife doesn't do that enough.

"Oh, leave them be!" someone behind them shouts, the sound of a scooter buzzing up behind them. Ida Manson scowls up at her daughter-in-law, "they're young! You probably don't remember what young love is like!" _::Seeing as you've been feeding on misery for centuries to keep your appearance.::_

Sam stifles a laugh, "Thanks, Grandma."

_::Do you think Tucker and Valerie will be okay handling the ghosts for a week?::_

_::Danny,::_ she sighs, _::They'll be fine. No worrying about Amity Park, remember? Week of freedom?::_

_::Yeah,::_ he squeezes her hand.

_::They'll be fine. Your parents are there too.::_

_::You're right,::_ she can feel him relax, _::Everything will be fine. No worries. Just…relaxation.::_

_::You need it,::_ she reaches up and brushes the dark circle under one eye, _::You've _more_ than earned it. It's our senior year. We'll be graduates in a few months. You've been fighting ghosts with hardly a single vacation for almost _four years_ now. You have statues dedicated to your hard work all around the world. Even a hero like you has to take some time for himself.::_

_::I do, or I'll…::_ she can feel the sharp pang of fear in his chest, _::Or I'll become like Vlad.::_

_::It'll never happen, Danny,::_ she strokes his arm reassuringly. With his parents' knowledge of his ghost half, he's been able to recuperate in the Ghost Zone more often, removing – or at least minimizing – the scars on his body. He's spread his powers around to do the same with her and Tuck, freeing them from constant long sleeves and pants.

"Let's get going!" Ida grins, buzzing towards the ramp as quickly as she can. Sam follows behind, pulling her boyfriend by the hand. Mr. and Mrs. Manson follow behind primly, shaking their heads.

"Just a week of peace," she mutters, "hopefully."

"It'll be fine."

"There's a ball on board tomorrow night for all of the rich families to throw money to charity," she reminds, earning a grimace.

"Mostly fine."

"Your dancing is improving."

"I'm going to look like an idiot…while trussed up like a penguin."

"We won't actually have to dance that much; we just have to stand there and spout pointless small-talk with my family's business partners." _::I can help you the whole way.::_

_::That _is_ comforting.::_ he thinks dryly.

"It's the only major hitch," she tells herself more than him, "We have the rest of our time to ourselves. No ghosts."

"No ghosts."


	2. Old Jokes and Memories

**A/N: Well…so I uploaded on the 4****th****, but took a break on the 5****th****. Why didn't I update? Well…...Thursday morning, I finished the final touches of Ch. 1…and then I was bored, and didn't know what to do…so I went and bought Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright. Guess what I played through nearly without pause until I beat it? ….yeah…sorry about that, guys. On the bright side, it's an awesome game. :D**

**I should clarify: I have NEVER been on a cruise, so…if there are errors, I apologize. Anyway…without further ado…Chapter 2! As always, read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #2: Old Jokes and Memories

"So here we are…"

"Yep."

"By ourselves."

"Yeah."

"…and you're playing on your PDA," Valerie frowns, lying back on the chaise in the Mayor's office. Tucker sits at his desk, typing rapidly.

"I wouldn't call it 'playing,'" he snips back, glaring over his glasses, "The main computer is down after an attack by Technus, so I have to do my research on this."

"Research for what?"

"I'm trying to work out some kinks to a ghost-hunting license."

"Why?" she sits up, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

He removes his glasses massages the bridge of his nose, "you know that there's a Ghost Hunters' convention gathering in Amity Park this week, right?"

"Yeah, it's why we thought it was a great idea for Danny to go on that cruise with Sam. No one's going to be shooting him."

"Face it, Val," he sighs, "most ghost hunters outside of Amity Park have _no idea_ what they're doing. We don't need people who _think_ they know what they're doing running amok. A few of them showed up early," he groans, his face in his hands, "The Nasty Burger lost _two tables _over _the Box Ghost._"

She grimaces, "Yeah, okay, you have a point there. What's he doing in Amity anyway? Didn't he just get married?"

"Yeah," he snorts, "What's up with that? …On the bright side, he may have provided reasonable cause to require permits for ghost hunting around here."

"'The senseless damage caused by reckless use of anti-ghost weaponry led to the destruction of property due to the lack of knowledge about the town's ghosts,' something like that?" she imitates.

"I can't remove all ecto-weaponry though; the citizens around here need them. So I'll just have to classify 'self-defense' weapons and 'hunting' weapons, and make licenses necessary for all hunting-class weapons. The test should consist of proper weapon usage and knowledge of local spooks and their typical haunts. Available to everyone sixteen or older."

"Welcome to Amity Park, where you can get a ghost-hunting license with your drivers'!"

He laughs, "Yeah, something like that."

She pats the chaise with an expectant look.

"I have work, Val–"

"You need a break."

"Val–" he growls warningly as she takes his hand and drags him over and drops him on the chaise.

"Tuck," she growls back, reclining him back before leaning against his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his neck. He frowns down at her, earning a smile in return, and sighs. His hand wraps around her waist and he pulls his feet up from the floor.

"You're so bossy."

"You need someone to boss you around every once in a while."

He grunts noncommittally, his eyes already slipping closed, "I…really should be working."

"I'll think about it while you get some sleep. I know my ecto-weapons too."

"…you know…I think I got that sexy secretary I needed…"

"…what?"

"It's an old joke," he mutters, his thumb brushing her shoulder, "Don't worry about it."

She listens as his breathing deepens and slows, his thumb slowing to a halt. She allows her eyes to wander to his neck, where a thin scar can be seen – only if someone knows to look for it. She wonders how he got it and how bad it was; it apparently wasn't life-threatening, but it easily could have been.

The two of them have been together for over a year now, a year full of bickering, banter, and battles they've had to fight together. It's odd to think that a little more than a year ago, the Tucker she thought she knew turned out to be someone else entirely. Sometimes, the dorky technogeek with a love of meat seems like a stranger. In his place is a competent leader and organizer, with a piercing gaze and a sharp mind; the Tucker that most people don't know, as though forgetting that _he's the mayor_.

She glances over at his desk, where papers are piled haphazardly to one side, in stacks she knows represent 'review', 'yes', and 'absolutely not.' Another, smaller stack rests to one side, waiting to be sorted. She disentangles herself and sits, snatching one from the waiting pile.

She can at least tell which ones can go into the 'absolutely not' pile, right?

-BREAK-

Jeremy Manson watches his daughter carefully, her eyes glowing brightly as she chats with her boyfriend. He can't help but feel that his little girl has changed so much since moving to Amity Park; for the better.

She'd started her 'Goth' lifestyle at the beginning of middle school, as a rebellion against their bright and cozy life. Despite having anything she could have wanted, she was clearly miserable. She'd never brought friends home, was always in trouble – though she always swore she was innocent, and he believed her, except for the time the local school's lab frogs went missing; that, he was certain she was responsible for. Regardless, it was obvious she didn't get along with the kids at her school. When work had taken him to Amity Park, an area much smaller – though relatively wealthy – she'd seemed almost…excited.

He can still recall how excited she looked when she got home after her first day of school. Even the usually quiet and stand-offish Sam had become talkative, telling her parents over dinner about her two friends. While he was a little worried that they were both boys – a worry any father is prone to have – it comforted him to know that she was _making friends_. She'd talked a little about the goofy and egotistical Tucker Foley, disliking his obsession with meat but still respecting his decision – though even now, she finds it a little excessive. She'd spoken to _great_ length about Daniel Fenton, the black-haired blue-eyed boy who'd greeted her with a smile, not even raising an eyebrow at her…eccentric style.

In a way, Danny Fenton had put a smile on her face from the day they met that had never really left.

He wakes from his ruminations to see his wife's scowl as the two teens stride onto the boat. Perhaps Danny's family isn't exactly…normal, or high-class, but they've raised a good kid. While he's worried about his little girl's heart getting broken, he can't really see someone so polite and adoring doing so intentionally. He always gets the feeling that there's something more to Danny than most people realize, but he just can't put his finger on it. To be honest, as he looks at them, he can't help but feel like the two of them were meant for one another.

Pam, on the other hand, still glowers at the two. _Wasn't this supposed to just be a phase?!_ She wants to demand of the psychologist she'd consulted about her wayward daughter. Her rebellion was just supposed to be a _phase_, she'd said. She was Goth because it was the opposite of her parents. She dated and hung out with that boy because it made them angry. It'd been two years of friendship, and then _she'd upgraded_ to _dating_ him around a year-and-a-half ago. Pam takes a deep breath to calm herself.

Sam had been infatuated with the boy from day one. Jeremy may have only seen a girl excited to have friends, she'd noticed immediately the way she purposefully mentioned his _eyes_, and how they stood out against his naturally _pitch-black hair._ It was only a little, but it was enough for any mother to understand; a woman's intuition. Part of her had hoped that she would slowly become more feminine to draw his attention, but it made no difference. She's remained as she was, and has acquired the boy of her dreams anyway.

He will ruin her life; she's certain of it. His parents are a pair of eccentric ghost-nuts who run around in _jumpsuits_, for crying out loud! Granted, the Fentons – while not _rich_ – are not exactly _poor_ either. Their inventions sell rather well, and their home is filled with the latest security equipment; poor men do not state-of-the-art labs own. Regardless, the owners of said labs are clinically insane, and the resulting children are bound for insanity someday.

She watches as a security guard jumps as a box floats into the air. Danny appears exasperated, slapping the offending specter away nonchalantly, muttering something about 'no ghosts.' The ghost gives one last shout before fleeing at the amethyst and ice glares leveled in its direction. The guard stares at the pair in surprise as they apologize for the trouble and board the vessel.

Doomed; her daughter is doomed.


	3. Second Day

**A/N: An update later in the day than usual…but I still completed it! Longest chapter of this fic so far! A big thanks to all have reviewed so far! Also, a reminder: If you're reading this without having read Journey of Secrets, you will VERY LIKELY be lost…probably from chapter one. Note: It's been shown in-series that Danny can talk (and probably breathe) underwater. ("Double-Cross My Heart" and "Girls' Night Out.")**

**Anyway, as always…read/review/fav/follow and…ENJOY!**

Chapter #3: Second Day

Sam lies on the beach chair she's pulled into the shade, reading a book she'd bought at the Skulk and Lurk before leaving Amity. The Caribbean sun shines brightly overhead, sparkling on the water.

"You should join me," Danny pouts, floating serenely in the nearly-empty pool. It's early morning on the second day of the cruise, early enough that few passengers – especially those who would be interested in the pool – are walking around.

"I'm perfectly fine here," she retorts, peeking around the pages with a smirk, "Just admiring the view," she makes it _perfectly_ clear what she means, slowly drinking in his toned chest. Her eye locks briefly on a scar that slashes over his left shoulder, crosses his collarbone, and ends just over his heart. With regular healing, it's gotten smaller than it was little over a year ago, but she feels as though that particular scar will never completely vanish.

He rolls over and leans his elbows on the edge, his cheeks mildly pink beneath a slightly irritated gaze. His eyes slowly move up her milk-white legs until he finally meets her own, smirking as her own cheeks heat.

"I still think you should join me. We have to pool all to ourselves at the moment; it isn't going to last long," he gives his most charming smile, "Come on, Sam."

She sighs, unable to argue with those pleading blue eyes, "Okay," she earmarks her page and places it carefully in her waterproof bag, "But I'm out of here the moment people show up."

He chuckles, "Understood."

She slides her feet into the cool water first, planning to ease herself in.

Not that she should have expected that to happen.

Danny launches from underwater, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and dragging her under. His lips find hers, colder than the water, and supply the air she hadn't had time to grab. She finally opens her eyes, stinging in the chlorine, and delivers her best glare. He laughs, his voice clear even underwater.

_::Danny! Don't scare me like that!::_

He takes her chin in his hand, a smug smile spreading over his face, "How _should_ I scare you?" he growls, tracing an icy finger over her lips.

They paddle to the surface, and she punches his shoulder, "You jerk!"

"You were taking too long," he grins.

"…is it weird that when you said that under Freakshow's control I thought it was kind of hot?"

"Wait…what?"

She wraps her arms around his neck, imitating his tone as best as she can, "'How _should_ I scare you?'"

He kisses her briefly, "Mmm…I don't think it's odd. I have a similar story."

"Oh really?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Remember the time you were Undergrowth's caretaker?" he asks, mimicking her in return, whispering into her ear, "'Stay, Danny, stay and rule with me.' …maybe it was just the little green dress talking though," he smirks.

Her face burns, earning him another punch to the shoulder.

"…or maybe it was the vines…"

She punches him again, her face brighter than before.

"…and I should shut up before you give me a bruise," he laughs.

"That would be the wisest choice," she growls, red to her ears, unaware that her boyfriend matches.

"Well," he coughs, pulling away, "I can see people beginning to mill around. They'll be out soon."

"Yeah. I think I'm going to hit the gym. I prefer to take my exercise somewhere out of the sunlight."

"I'll stay out here. Have fun," he grins as she climbs from the pool. She can sense a flicker of something, but she can feel him shove a wall over it – they've learned how to block their minds from one another for the sake of their sanity.

"…did you want to say something?" she challenges.

"…watch out for guys at the gym," he frowns, "let me know if you need help."

"I can handle myself – _you_, on the other hand, will be powerless against one of the Barbies on board," she smirks, "You're too nice."

"I'll call if I need you," he winks, a smile returning to his face.

"See you in about two hours?" she begins to walk towards her cabin.

"Yeah," he replies

-BREAK-

It's barely more than an hour later when she can feel him panicking as she walks towards her room to shower.

_::Sam, help!::_ he shouts, _::this girl is clinging to my arm–::_

_::On my way,::_ she laughs. She can imagine exactly what he looks like right now, his face red with embarrassment, trying to escape. Sure enough, that's what she finds on the other side. She notices with displeasure that the primary culprit is the girl from yesterday, though she's roped some friends into helping her.

"For the _fifth_ time," she hears Danny splutter, "_I have a girlfriend!_"

"A girlfriend who would appreciate it if you stopped trying to wear him," she snorts, glaring down at the offender, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Sam!" He grins.

"Her?" the girl pouts, "She doesn't look like much fun, _Danny_."

Sam raises an eyebrow.

"We _were_ playing a game of volleyball," he explains.

"Got it," she smirks, "I told you you're too nice, Danny. Now," she frowns at the unwanted accessory on his arm, "get off of him, please."

She clings tighter momentarily, and Danny flinches away.

"I _said,_" Sam growls, "_let. Him. Go._"

She releases his arm, and he hauls himself from the pool quickly, snatching his towel from a nearby chair – the one she'd been sitting in earlier, Sam notices with a smile.

"Go shower," she smiles, kissing his cheek, _::Just staking my claim again.::_

_::I said you could do it whenever you want,::_ he grins back, "See you in a few."

He disappears around a corner, and she turns back to the blond in the pool, who glares up with angry brown eyes.

"I thought I made it clear yesterday," Sam hisses, "That he's _mine_."

"People break up all the time," she shrugs, "he can _seriously_ upgrade."

The other people in the pool their age watch the two women closely, while others try to ignore the growing tension in the air.

"How is _silicon_ an upgrade?" she snorts in reply. Her eyes dance over the perfect honey-blond curls, barely touched by water, golden-brown skin, the blinding white, designer bikini, and the large designer sunglasses.

She, on the other hand, is a sweaty mess in sweatpants; but Danny had smiled when he saw _her_.

"_Excuse me?_" the girl gasps, echoed by others around them.

"You heard me," Sam retorts, "Stay away from Danny, got it? He's not interested, and…" she smiles mysteriously as she turns away, "…you couldn't handle him anyway."

-BREAK-

"You're _sure_ I don't look like an idiot?"

"I'm _positive_, Danny," she laughs as he straightens his ice-blue tie nervously for what seems to be the hundredth time.

"You look amazing, if I haven't already told you," he smiles. Her hair is loose, falling nearly to her shoulders. She wears a corseted, long, black gown with an ice-blue layer underneath, fading up from the hem. A black spider web necklace with a tiny, silver-and-blue spider adorns her neck, with matching earrings and bracelet. She's forgone her usual lavender makeup in favor of a subtle pale blue – recommended by Crystal in her usual, silent way.

"You have," she smirks, taking his arm, "But it doesn't hurt to remind me."

"You ready?" Jeremy smiles at his daughter, but it quickly vanishes as Pamela pushes him aside to scan the teens' attire critically.

"Yeah, Dad," she replies.

"…It'll do," Pam frowns, "I wish you'd go with something with a little more color…and change the accessories…but it'll work."

_::That's as close as we'll ever get to a compliment,::_ Sam thinks dryly, _::Savor this moment, Danny.::_

_::I am,::_ he replies solemnly.

The party is a burst of color, full of colorful food spreads and designer dresses. There are wealthy families from all over the U.S., including several parents from Amity Park; Paulina had run off to Italy with the other A-Listers for Spring Break, but her mother can be seen chatting with Dash's parents in a corner of the room, sporting a shimmering crimson dress. Her younger daughter stands by the table with her father.

_::See? Practically no one is dancing,::_ she assures.

"Mr. and Mrs. Manson," a warm voice greets, and an older gentleman strides over, "How are you?"

"We're well," Pam replies with a smile, "and you, Mr. Lacroix?"

"I'm well."

"You remember our daughter, Samantha," she smiles, "And the young man is her boyfriend, Danny Fenton."

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Danny smiles, shaking his hand.

"Fenton…" he muses quietly, "Anyway, Pamela…is Ida with you?"

"Still kickin'!" the elderly woman shouts, buzzing through the doors, "How's it going, Al?"

"Well, Ida," he laughs, "How about you?"

The four adults cluster away in conversation, and Sam pulls Danny towards the buffet table.

"That was…?"

"Alphonse Lacroix is the owner of this ship. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but this isn't your average family cruise vessel," she answers, taking a strawberry on a toothpick, "he's an old friend of my grandmother's. He and my grandfather were college buddies or something."

"Got it."

"…that blond from earlier is here," she growls.

He grimaces, "Really?"

"Yeah…Ugh, I should've known. She's his granddaughter."

"…is that going to be a problem?"

"No," she shrugs, "I told you; Al likes us. It won't change because of her."

"That's good," he smiles, "Hey, look," he nods at the orchestra, "think they play 'Nearer My God to Thee'?"

She elbows him in the ribs, "still not funny."

"You're right," he sobers, "The door quip was _way_ funnier."

"You're awful," she laughs.

He laughs with her, until a chill races through his body. His head snaps up, his eyes scanning the room.

"No," she groans, noticing his alert state, "This was supposed to be _ghost free._"

"You have the lipstick blaster, right?"

"Yeah. You're wearing a wrist-ray, aren't you?" she indicates the small, flat, watch-shaped band around his wrist.

"Yep," his eyes scan the room. A noise reaches his ears, a deep rumbling. A shadow flicks across his vision, flying through the chandelier above, which creaks dangerously in response. He begins to run as it falls, pushing several people out of the way, the last of which is an older woman, who is caught by her husband. She stares in mute horror as the crystal flies into the air, shattering against the glossy, tiled floor.

"Danny!" Sam shouts, rushing forward as the air clears.

He stands, his face inches away from a twisted band of metal, "I'm okay," he assures, taking a careful step back, "I don't think I've even torn my suit."

"Are you really alright, young man?" the husband of the earlier woman asks.

"Yes…what about her?" he smiles.

"I…I'm fine," she stammers, "My word, you…saved my life. You could have _died_."

"I feel like I hear that a lot," he mutters, "Really, I'm fine. Don't worry."

The rumbling gets louder again, and a motorcycle bursts through the wall, accompanied by a loud whoop and a pitch-black shadow. The other guests stumble out of the way hurriedly, shrieking in fear. Lacroix orders his men to fetch some ecto-weapons.

Danny takes a step forward, ignoring the shouts of others to get back, "_Johnny…_" he growls, approaching the biker.

"Hey," he smirks, "You have any idea how far I had to drive to–"

"I don't care," he frowns, "I'm not in the mood. What'd you do, tick off Kitty again?"

"She's been angry at him since the day they blew into the afterlife together in a ball of fire," Sam snorts, "Probably even before then."

"Why are you so–"

"I'm on a _vacation_, Johnny," Danny growls, "A _ghost-less vacation_."

"Whoops, sorry, but can you just–"

"Do what every other guy in your situation does," he sighs.

"…like what?"

"Buy her flowers, chocolates, and apologize profusely!" He takes him by his jacket, hauling him to eye-level.

"And in your case," Sam intervenes, "Sleep on the couch for a few days."

"Come _on_, man! Help a guy out!"

"Get lost, Johnny," he growls.

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?"

"I said…_get lost_," his eyes flash green, unnoticed by the other guests. The spectral biker holds up his hands in surrender.

"I got it, man, no need for the scary eyes," he shrugs, "I'm headed back to Amity, just as soon as you let me go."

Danny drops him heavily to his bike, "Spread the word. Next ghost that troubles me for some insignificant reason gets blasted all the way to Klemper's realm _at least_."

"Yeah, yeah," he shrugs, "Whatever, I'm out of here," he revs his bike.

"Wait!" Sam shouts as he rides off, "Not through the–" There is a loud crash, and the lights flicker before dying, reviving on the emergency generator,"…engine room."

Danny massages his temples and clenches his jaw, green flicking through his irises briefly, "Well…it could be worse."

"Oh _no_," Sam groans, "You did _not_ just say that."

"…" he swears softly, "_that_ was not supposed to leave my head."

As though on cue, the ship heaves suddenly, sending the passengers sprawling across the floor. Danny grunts, cushioning Sam's fall with his body as he cradles her against his chest. The cold spirals through him again.

"Another ghost?" she asks, feeling the cool gasp against her ear.

"Yeah," he grunts, "It's—look out!" he leaps towards her parents, planting himself between them and a tumbling table, which cracks against his skull loudly.

"Danny!" Sam shouts, watching as he slumps to the ground.

"Daniel?" Jeremy asks, bending over the prone teen. Pam, trembling, clutches her husband's arm.

Blood already pools on the floor beneath his head, and Sam brushes her father's hands away, his face pale and blue eyes wide, "His pulse…"

"It's there," she answers quickly, "It's just really hard to find," she presses her fingers to his neck, waiting long enough to feel the gentle pulse against her fingertips, "It's a pretty nasty injury, but he'll be okay. Danny's tougher than he looks," she glances around at the room, steadying herself as best as she can, and clears her throat.

"We need to get somewhere where the furniture is either absent or bolted down!" she shouts, gathering the attention of her fellow passengers, "At least until we can ride this out!"

Al Lacroix nods, directing them all to a nearby parlor, where he relays the directions over the ship's intercom. It's a tight fit in the smaller room, but, as advertised, the furnishings are bolted in place. Danny is placed on the couch, and Sam uses a first-aid kit from the room to bandage his head.

"That's an impressive boyfriend your daughter has," Al rumbles quietly to Jeremy, while Pam makes small-talk with another woman across the room.

"Yeah," he admits, "Pam doesn't like him, though."

"She doesn't really like anyone," he snorts, "what about you?"

"…Sam's my little girl," he whispers quietly, "Even if she's gothic and…all around abnormal, she's still my only child. I like him…and I don't."

Al hums, stumbling briefly as the ship heaves again, "You're just relieved she's not dating a complete scumbag. I've been there."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What happened?"

"She married him."


	4. Unfinished Stories

Chapter #4: Unfinished Stories

Anxiety, terror, worry…they all flood his senses, and he becomes aware of a dull ache in his head, along with the pleasurable feeling of fingers combing through his hair. He'd shielded Mr. and Mrs. Manson…the table. His somewhat scrambled thoughts reassemble before he opens his eyes to the light of a parlor. His head rests on Sam's lap, and she smiles down at him.

"You should feed," she mutters quietly, "You put a nasty split in your skull, but at least you sated your obsession for now, right?"

He chuckles, resting his hand atop hers, which rests on his chest. His mind slips back into darkness, and he watches the colored strands of emotion float around, pulling in small pieces from the group.

_…__a ghost!_

_What's with this sudden lurching?_

_Are we going to sink?_

_…__shipwrecked?_

_…__came out of nowhere!_

_…__hope he's okay…_

_…__m-married?!_

He feels his heart rate spike briefly. Surely _it's_ safe, right? _It's _in his room, in his suitcase, nice and protected…he calms himself quickly, _the ship is just getting tossed around a bit. _It's_ not sinking, and even if _it_ is, you can always fetch _it_ with ease by just phasing through; you can breathe underwater._

Time ticks by, and the ship stills soon enough. As all falls silent, Al clears his throat, "I'm going to go see what's going on outside. Everyone, I know you're anxious, but please wait here."

"I'm coming with you," Mr. Manson suggests.

"We're going too, Sam," Danny grunts, sitting up slowly, "Help me up?"

"I was planning on it," she replies, _::Your ghost sense went off; was it…?::_

_::Yeah, it was Vortex,::_ he replies grimly, _::He broke out of the Observants' Prison a few months ago. They have a two-million bounty on him.::_

_::And Tucker hasn't dragged you off to hunt him down?::_

_::He doesn't know. I'd rather leave the weather-ghost to the Observants, personally. I _really_ don't want my emotions connected to the weather again.::_

_::Well, we agree on something there,::_ they exit into the sunshine, all clouds gone without a trace. The deck gleams with rain, and the ocean spans in all directions. Mr. Manson and Lacroix talk with a man who seems to be the ship's captain.

"…communications down…engine dead…" he manages to hear.

"…lightning damage?" Al questions.

"…no idea where we are…no land in sight," the captain continues.

"…mechanics down to engine room…running…"

"Vortex could have blown us anywhere he wanted," Danny whispers, _was I his target?_

"If he knew we were here, don't you think he'd have…sunk us or something?" she hisses.

"I didn't even direct that thought at you…" he mutters, "Did I?"

"No, but I don't always need telepathy to read your mind, Danny."

"Noted," he swallows, his eyes scanning the horizon more carefully.

"See anything?"

"No," he croaks, "…I have a bad feeling about this, Sam."

"It never ends, does it?" she sighs.

"…Sorry," he whispers softly.

"Dan–"

"I told everyone to wait inside!" Al frowns, approaching the couple.

"Danny was feeling a little dizzy. I thought some fresh air would help," she lies smoothly.

The halfa smiles weakly to back her up.

"Well," he huffs, "Let's go back in. We need to discuss what's happened and make some plans."

"Yeah," she agrees, _::Danny, what's wrong?::_

_::Nothing,:: _ he assures, _::Besides the obvious,::_ the wall slams down over his mind, shutting her out.

_::…Danny?::_

-BREAK-

Pamela glances over to the couch, where her daughter sits, her boyfriend's head in her lap as she combs through the raven strands. His eyes flutter open, and he grimaces briefly, before turning his gaze back to her with a smile. Sam mutters something, which he returns with a chuckle. His hand lays atop hers, which rests on his chest, his finger tapping rhythmically against the back of her hand, his eyes slipping shut again.

He'd known it; the ghost. But how? Why?

She drags her icy glare from the couple on the couch to the woman she converses with; or rather, listens to. The marginally older woman seems to enjoy listening to herself, and can make her seem engaged in conversation with little more than the appropriately times gasps and acknowledgements.

He'd looked furious, not even hesitating to approach the spectral biker. This doesn't match the Daniel Fenton she knows; he's never been the rebellious type – except for the Circus Gothica incident, which Sam insisted was…abnormal; something about televised hypnotism. He's always polite, gets decent grades, and is usually smiling, but often nervous whenever ghosts are mentioned.

So why had he been able to approach that ghost without hesitation? Was it because Sam had been in danger? No…Sam had followed behind him, mildly irritated; _she_ had talked to it too. What had they said?

_"…__tick off Kitty again?"_

_"…__angry at him since the day they blew into the afterlife together…before then."_

_"…__a _ghost-less_ vacation."_

He'd stressed the phrase 'ghost-less.' They had degraded to more angry whispers, the young man even grasping the ghost's jacket to haul it from its seat. Before it left, it looked nervous; a _ghost_ scared of _Danny Fenton_?

Sam had seemed…unusually deft with the first-aid kit, applying the bandages to his head with hardly a glance in his direction. It had been a comfortable, practiced routine. Thinking back, she can remember finding a large, well-stocked first-aid kit beneath her daughter's bed. She'd considered confronting her about it, but forgot about _that_ the moment she saw the stash of gory horror movies next to it.

She will have to ask her about it later.

Jeremy and Alphonse leave the room, noting the stillness, to check what's going on outside. Danny sits up, wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulder, and requests to follow them. She helps him stand, and they move carefully outside.

The group returns a few minutes later, pale.

"All instruments are down," Alphonse rumbles, the cabin falling silent, "No land is in sight. The sea's gone calm; according to the captain and crew, the storm just swept in without warning. We always check for oncoming storms, but…this one caught us off guard. Our engine is down, and we have some of the on-board mechanics checking it out."

Sam lowers Danny to the couch, and he clears his throat, "May I, Mr. Lacroix?"

"Anything, Mr. Fenton?"

"Danny," he smiles, "About the storm…I think it may have been caused by a ghost named Vortex."

"A ghost? What makes you suggest that, dear boy?!" he gasps.

"Vortex controls weather; he's a powerful nutjob that can strike without warning and enjoys chaos. That storm wasn't natural, as the crew can attest. It's just my theory, obviously."

"The engine failure was caused by a ghost as well," a woman spits, "was that this…'Vortex' fellow?"

"No," he laughs, "That was Johnny Thirteen; he likes to flirt with human girls, but he's not typically downright malicious. He has this…bad-luck shadow that follows him around, so when he flew through the engine…it broke."

"And how do _you_ know this…Johnny Thirteen fellow?" her eyes narrow.

"He flirted with Danny's sister," Sam replies bleakly, "Obviously, it didn't go over well."

"You seem…comfortable with ghosts," a man comments.

"Well, _duh_," Paulina's little sister comments from her mom's side, "We're from _Amity Park._"

The room falls silent again.

"_Fenton_, yes!" Al laughs, "I _thought_ the name seemed familiar! Your parents supplied us with ecto-weapons!"

"Of course they did," Danny sighs, "And where might this equipment be?"

"By the crew quarters," he replies.

Danny leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his fingers interlaced, "We could really use Tuck right now…do we have any working communication?"

"No, it's all down."

He frowns, his eyes becoming distant, "Yeah…we could definitely use Tuck."

"Why do you say that?" Jeremy asks warily.

"We're running on a backup generator, the engines are down, we don't know where we are, and our communication's out," he lists, "Tucker is a technological genius; if anyone could find a way to get a signal out, it'd be him."

"Tuck…Tucker Foley?" Al questions, "The kid that designed the system in Antarctica?"

"Mayor of Amity Park and our best friend," Danny grins, "We were all up there. We've been pals for like…ever."

"Naturally, the _one_ time he isn't with us," Sam growls.

He stands, "We need to take a full stock of what we have and what our situation is. Take a tally of passengers to make sure no one went overboard; get several people in the medical wing, to help the injured. If we're lucky, the mechanics can get the engines going. See if we have anyone on board that can fix the receiver-transmitter to see if we can get our GPS, Wi-Fi, and radios working."

The group stares at him before glancing at Al, who clears his throat, "Sounds like a plan," he admits, turning on his heel and exiting the room. The other guests follow behind, men loosening their ties on the way to their cabins.

Pam watches Danny carefully, her eyes narrowed. _This_ isn't the Danny Fenton she's familiar with. He's far too calm, given the situation, and so is Sam. Neither one of them has seemed too worried, calmly assessing the problems before them.

There's something she's missing; and she'll find out what it is before this cruise is over.

**A/N: I'm going to try updating every other day at least. They might come a little later in the day than usual, but…anyway, chapter #4! Thanks to all who reviewed! Remember: regular reviews keep me updating! If I feel like you aren't enjoying it, I lose my enthusiasm too. Also, a quick reminder to guests: Pick a name, or just sign a something at the end of your reviews if you want author feedback in the A/Ns. You can read the A/Ns of Journey of Secrets again to see what happened to one guest who was reviewing regularly but left me with no way to specify a response; I****_ will_**** troll you, and it will probably make my morning to do so…or rather, it would, but I have a job now and therefore less time spent on my computer checking my e-mail every time I hear the notification on my phone. Seriously, people; I stop whatever I'm doing to check for the review notification every time. Journey of Secrets is BY FAR my most popular fic, with the most popular fic (before its publication) having a total of 13 reviews, 42 favs, 41 follows, and a little over 7,000 views. So really, and sincerely: Thank you! :D I hope you'll continue to enjoy the story! We get some Tucker and Val next time!**


	5. Ghost Hunting

**A/N: 9/11: Never Forget!**

**Yay! Chapter 5! A big thank-you to all who reviewed! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far, including my interpretations of Sam's parents. :D **

**I feel like Pam and Maddie Fenton have more in common than they'd ever admit. Pam's just a little more prone to class-based prejudice, while Maddie's against ghosts. Also, Pam's relationship with her daughter is very poor in comparison to Maddie's relationship with Danny, and she's not quite as analytical, and therefore more prone to outbursts. (Where do you think Sam gets her temper from? …don't tell her I said that…0.0) Jeremy is not very confrontational, and just follows Pam's lead. He doesn't yell, he lectures. And Ida…does what Ida wants to. ;P Anyway, as always, read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #5: Ghost Hunting

"…So, in light of recent events, I am proposing a classification of ecto-weaponry and a required license for all hunting-class weapons. This is to minimize unnecessary property damage. I've released the official document, along with a key of its main points for voter evaluation. Please feel free to write me in regards to any concerns you may have. Thank you," Tucker steps away from the podium to a wave of cheers. Once out of sight, he lets out a long breath, relaxing.

"Good job, Babe," Valerie smiles, taking his hand, "I can already see the future; 'Tucker Foley for President.'"

He winces, "I don't need _that_ much power…yet," his gaze grows distant, "Ghosts may soon become citizens as much as humans, Val. I'll do whatever it takes to protect our allies – to protect _Danny_."

"And Danielle," she adds.

"And Danielle," he agrees, "And those who love and care for them."

"How is she, anyway?"

"Danny got a photo of her and Cujo in front of some Aztec temple. She seems to have decided that she wants to become a treasure hunter – that's not exactly smiled upon, though, so Danny's hoping she means to study Archaeology."

"Sounds like Dani," she laughs, "well, she's only a little over thirteen – physically. Technically, she's only…a little less than two? She knows what she wants to do as much as Youngblood!"

"Yeah," he laughs, "That's true. He really wants her to come home though."

"I know that the Fentons know about his status as a halfa now, but…do they know about Dani?"

"Mrs. Fenton asked once, after she overheard Danny and I talking about her in the Far Frozen, but…Sam only gave her vague answers. She knows Dani exists, and that Danny views her as a younger sister, but…that's really all she knows."

Valerie nods absently, "It's a little tough to swallow."

"Yeah. Danny didn't want to totally overload them with the weird crap that's happened in his life thanks to 'The Froot-loop.'"

"So he's not just _a_ froot-loop, he's '_The_ Froot-loop'?"

"Yeah," he snickers.

They enter another gathering room, where familiar faces, including members of the Guys in White, the – former – Master's Blasters, and other renowned ghost-hunters gather. Tucker releases her hand and climbs the stage at the front of the room, "Wish me luck."

He silences the room, "Welcome to Amity Park," he begins, "the most haunted city in America! I understand that you are all professionals in your own right, but there have been some _incidents_," his eyes lock onto The Extreme Ghost Breakers, "that were completely avoidable. So, I have asked for Jack and Maddie Fenton to organize a slideshow of the most common ghosts in Amity Park. I also ask that you leave the ghost-hunting to The Red Huntress for the duration of your stay. She is perfectly capable of handling up to level-seven entities by herself. Not only that," he smirks, "But she might get irritated if you encroach on her territory. Trust me, her bite _is_ worse than her bark."

Off to his left, Valerie sends him a wry glare, trying her hardest not to smile. He turns to his right, where the Fentons wait with their presentation, "Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, I'll turn the rest of this meeting over to you," he smiles and steps away, earning an elbow from Valerie.

"What am I, a guard dog?!" she hisses.

"Well, your career was started by one," he shrugs.

"How does that make _me_ one?!"

"Guilty by association?"

"Then Danny's one too, and so are you, and Sam, and Dani…"

"What's wrong with being the guard dogs of Amity Park?" he grins, "And are you hungry? Because I am _starving_. Politics are exhausting."

-BREAK-

"So we have four Bazookas, two Peelers, five Jack O' Nines, and four wrist-rays excluding the ones Sam and I have," Danny and Sam check each weapon carefully, "do you have a ghost-shield?"

"We planned to have one installed, but for a ship as large as this…we didn't have time before this cruise," Al shifts.

"Well, I'm not expecting a lot more in the way of ghost company anyway," Danny replies quickly, "But it's always best to be prepared; who knows? Vortex might come back."

"He's tough to predict, though," Sam adds.

"If we _do_ get any guests of the…ectoplasmic assortment, then Sam and I will handle them. Do your crew members know how to use these?"

"Yes, they were taught by your parents."

"Good. Distribute the weapons to them, but remember to tell them to do only what they _have_ to. We know what we're doing, and we can handle any ectoplasmic threat thrown at us."

"U-understood," Al stutters. He can't say no. He can't argue; why not? What is it about the teens before him that demand his obedience?

_It's their eyes_, his mind whispers, _they're so focused, so relaxed. Those eyes…have gazed into the depths of despair. Into the eyes of evil. They aren't teenagers; they're warriors._

The passengers have all changed into their casual clothes, and he swears he can see faint scars crossing the arms and legs of the teens in front of him. A tally had been taken, and no passengers had been found missing. A few suffered from bumps and scrapes, but no major injuries had been uncovered. Sam had helped in the hospital for a few hours while Danny had run around, checking the ship for damage with the crew – they had no idea how he'd been able to move from one end of the ship to the other so quickly, and he supplied no answers.

Jeremy Manson stands by the doorway, frowning, _has Sam been…?_

"It's _his_ doing," Pamela hisses beside him, her eyes leveled coldly at Danny, "_he_ made our little girl into a ghost hunter!"

"Like father, like son," he growls.

Sam, who shouldn't have been able to hear them, whirls on her heel and storms over, taking them by the arms and pulling them out into the sunshine.

"We live in _Amity Park_," She hisses, her amethyst eyes almost seem to glow, "don't you _dare_ blame Danny! Technically, _I'm_ the reason _he_ hunts ghosts, so don't you _dare_ add it to your little list of 'Reasons to Hate Danny Fenton!'"

"I can't believe you've been…!" Pamela shrieks, "You could have _died!_"

"Danny would never let that happen!" Sam yells.

"Things go out of control, sometimes," Jeremy frowns.

"Yeah, but _I_ have yet to end up needing emergency care – which is something Danny and Tucker can't claim," she growls, tears brimming in her eyes, "They would _both_ die _long_ before letting _my_ life be in danger. It _ticks me off_!" she stamps her foot.

"Just more reasons you – no, all _three_ of you – shouldn't be out hunting ghosts!" he replies, taking her by the shoulders.

"I can't just sit on the sidelines; none of us can!" she replies, her voice falling to a whisper, "If you stop and someone gets hurt, you'll wonder if you could've helped them. The guilt will weigh on you until you break. You shoulder your responsibilities and you can _never_ leave them behind, because if you do, you'll leave your back open for guilt. So don't you _dare_ blame Danny. _You_ don't see his face every time Tuck or I get hurt; he blames himself already, so you don't need to!"

"Oh, so he _knows_ it's a problem!" Pam screeches, "Well _that_ makes everything okay! I have to say, I was curious about the enormous first-aid kit under your bed. Now I suppose I know what it's for!"

"Yeah!" Sam snarls back, "And stop patronizing me! Do you know what it's like to be up to your elbows in blood, or what burnt flesh _smells_ like?! Have you ever had to scrub asphalt from a gash and stitch it up while the person you're treating _can't make a sound_?!"

The nights flash through her mind. Danny on her bathroom floor, one hand clamped firmly over his mouth, and the other gripping the edge of the bathtub so tightly she's worried it'll shatter under his ghostly strength. A large burn spans his back, and she scrubs away shreds of the hazmat suit that have melted to his skin. Another night, and she has to pin his legs with her own, holding him still as she sews a gash in his side shut. These nights have lessened, now that the Fentons know what their son was up to, but they haven't disappeared. He always comes to her when they're _really_ bad. He doesn't want them to realize the full extent of his injuries.

The two parents stare, astonished at the tears that stream down her cheeks, "You have _no right_ to look down on him. He's the strongest, most courageous man I know, and _I love him._"

"Sam…" Jeremy begins.

"_Don't,_" she sniffs, "Just…leave us alone. Go," she wipes her tears away, and strides back to where Danny still speaks with Al. He notices her puffy eyes, giving her an inquisitive look, but she brushes it away with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Worry flicks through those oceanic eyes, but he does as she asks.

"Our little girl…" Jeremy whispers, "She…"

"She's doing this because she _knows_ it'll tick us off!" Pam hisses, "Ungrateful little…" she shakes her head, hands on her hips, "We're moving. We're getting a restraining order on Daniel again and moving away from Amity once we get back."

"It won't stop her, Pamela," Jeremy sighs, "She's almost eighteen anyway. We can't whisk her out of school for the last few months of her senior year."

"Then what are we supposed to do?!"

"Leave them be," he replies.

"Darn right!" Ida adds, buzzing up, "I overheard everything. I don't think anything short of death – heck, we live in _Amity_, so maybe not even _that_ – is going to keep those kids apart!" she declares, "True love conquers all!"

"True love?" Pam grimaces, "Sammykins and…_him_?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" the elderly woman deadpans, "You _have_ been watching them, right? Well, I suppose _you_ wouldn't be capable of identifying such unfamiliar emotions–"

"_Mother_," Jeremy warns, "That's enough."

Pam's face is red, her mouth clamped shut. He takes his wife's hand, "Let's go relax for a while, and let Sam cool off. You know how she is. If you yell at her, she'll just yell back."

"You're right," Pam relaxes, "Once she calms down, she'll know we're right."

_Well…that may be going a bit far…_


	6. Promises

**A/N: Second update in a row! Told you I'd try to update as often as possible; with AT LEAST every other day. Part of the reason for this is because I'm not planning on updating on Saturday (though, you guys know I'm addicted to writing…right?) so this makes up for it. Today's chapter?**

**ANGST…a little bit…sort-of…I'm not Cordria, alright? (If you love angst, look her up…it's legendary!) Anyway, another reason I'm updating so soon is because character introspection is my forte. Definitely better than my action scenes. :D Anyway, as usual; read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #6: Promises

The passengers are gathering in the cafeteria, eating carefully rationed meals. The ship has water purifiers on board, so _that_ isn't an issue, but the food is limited. Danny watches them file into the warm light inside before he phases through the wall into his room. He opens his duffel bag, digging under his clothes until he finds _it._ Reassured of _its_ safety, he places _it_ back where _it_ was and flops back onto his bed. He knows he should go get food, but he wants to wait until it's cleared out a bit; he's already had to deal with curious passengers who want to interrogate him about his ghost-hunting, and Sam's face is going to get stuck in a permanent glare from frightening off 'The Barbies'.

_It never ends, does it?_

"I'm sorry," he whispers, careful to keep the wall between their minds in place. He sits up, meeting his gaze in the mirror across the room. His hair is tussled, and dark circles lurk under his eyes; they've become a permanent fixture over the past four years. He's pale, too. Ghostly, even, he realizes with a smirk.

He looks _haunted_.

In many ways, so does she. In a way, she _is_ haunted.

"What was I thinking?" he whispers, "Who…who does this to the woman they love?"

His haunted expression stares back.

"But it's too late now," he continues, "she's here – she always has been. I should've just…" he sighs, running his hands through his hair, "…there's nothing I could've done, right? She…she's as tied to my death as I am. As tied to Danny _Phantom_ as I am."

Green eyes stare back.

"Is that just an excuse? Can there be an excuse for subjecting her to…to _this_?"

-BREAK-

_Pain flares again in his back, and he can feel the melted suit pull at his skin as he shifts his body. He alights by her window, tapping lightly on the glass. She appears in her ragged charcoal nightgown, her amethyst eyes wide with worry. She opens the pane, and he stumbles in, keeping himself in Phantom form. He can hear her asking what happened, but he can't answer, doing his best to keep quiet._

_They rush to the bathroom, and she gasps as she turns the light on. She runs for the first-aid kit under her bed, and he can hear her stifling a sob in the other room._

I'm sorry, Sam, I'm so sorry…_she returns to the room, and her cool, shaking fingers dance around the burn._

::Danny…this…I…this is g-going…to hurt…it…::_ her voice is tight, even through her mind._

::I know,::_ he manages to reply, _::Just…do it.::

_They take a deep breath together, and she begins to pull the suit. He clamps his hand over his mouth, shoving a wall between their thoughts so she can't hear his mental scream. He kneels in front of the bathtub, and grips the edge, his knuckles popping with the effort to keep silent. He can hear her crack, a gentle sniff at first. A sideways glance reveals the tears that stream down her cheeks._

_He looks away – she wouldn't want him to see. His hand tightens on the edge of the porcelain tub, and he tries to blink away his own tears._

Let Undergrowth slice me to pieces, let Skulker blow me up, let someone skin me alive...but _please_ don't make me watch her cry…

_She starts scrubbing as gently as she can afford, and he begins to shake with the effort to remain quiet and still. Sweat courses down his face as she washes asphalt and pieces of his suit from the burn. Finally, she applies the antibiotics and a loose bandage. He finally removes his hand, taking deep breaths, and waits for the tremors to subside. Her arms wrap gingerly around his waist, and she leans her head against his undamaged shoulder. Warm tears flow against his skin._

_"__I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm so sorry, Sam."_

_"__Just…promise me you won't die," she whispers._

_"__I…" his mouth goes dry, "I…I'll be fine, Sam."_

_"__That's not a promise, Danny."_

_"__I…" he chokes up, "I can't promise that, Sam."_

_"__I know you can't…"_

_"__I'm sorry," he turns, pulling her into his chest and stroking her hair, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"_

-BREAK-

Sam stares into her reflection in the mirror of her own room, which sandwiches her parents' room between hers and Danny's. Her black hair is smooth and sleek due to the obsessive combing she's performed for the past ten minutes. Her skin has always been pale, and only the slightest of shadows can be seen beneath her bloodshot eyes.

Something's bothering Danny, and he refuses to let her know what it is. Even now, the wall is shoved firmly down. She's lived for a little over a year now in his mind, and this sudden distancing leaves an ache in her chest.

She knows _something_, of course.

She knows, for instance, that there's nearly always a sharp pang of guilt before he cuts her off. She sighs, "Of course…"

_It never ends, does it?_

_…__I'm sorry._

She buries her face in her hands, "You're an idiot, Danny. I didn't mean–" she groans. He thinks it's his fault, that she deserves better. That her parents are right. She frowns and leaps to her feet, storming to his door, and knocks.

"…Sam?" he asks, answering. He looks like a mess; in a way, he has for years now. The pale skin and dark circles beneath his eyes have become a constant. His hair is a bit more ruffled than usual – he's definitely been running his hands through it nervously.

She swings in, taking his face in her hands, and kisses him. His lips feel desperate against hers, and his arms wrap around her waist. They pull away, and she looks up into his eyes.

"You're an idiot."

"What?" he blinks.

"You're blaming yourself again, aren't you? For stupid, useless things that are _not_ your fault!" she growls angrily.

"I…" he tenses briefly.

"Tuck and I help you because we _want_ to Danny. Yeah, the long nights, the nights I have to patch you up through my tears, the scars…they suck, but…I wouldn't trade them for _anything_, Danny. You _have_ to remember that. Tuck feels the same way."

He pulls her closer, tucking his face into her hair, "I just…I hate seeing you hurt," he whispers, "I…I wish we could just be normal teenagers for once. Go on a vacation without worrying about my enemies trying to kill us, to go swimming without wondering how to explain our scars."

"I don't know…" she smirks, slowly stroking his hair into a less disheveled state, "…that sounds a little boring, don't you think?"

He laughs, his breath cool on her ear, "Maybe."

"And we'd still have to satisfy your obsession," she adds.

"If it were a really long trip," he admits.

"And my aim could deteriorate. That would be _awful_."

He laughs again, "I don't know…you have pretty good aim…"

"It could happen," she defends, "…feeling better?"

He kisses her forehead, "Yeah. You don't even have to be in my head to know when I'm being an idiot."

"It's not difficult to tell when you're going into guilt mode," she retorts, poking his forehead, "…have you gotten something to eat yet?"

"No," he replies.

"Let's go."

"I was going to wait until more people cleared out. They've already started interrogating me…" he rubs the back of his neck.

"Ignore them," she waves dismissively, "I'll scare them off."

He stares at her for a moment before relenting, taking her hand in his, and exiting his cabin.

"…we should go flying later," she whispers, "see if we can see anything."

"I'm up for that," he smiles, squeezing her hand, "You have a coat, right? It'll be cold up there."

"Always have one," she smiles back.

"Then after we eat, when everyone's cleared out," he laughs.

"You've never answered my question though," she frowns.

"What question?" he stops in his tracks, appearing panicked.

"Why can I snuggle with you and get warmer despite the fact that your body temperature is lower than mine?"

"I told you the answer," he smirks, kissing the tip of her nose, "a ghost has to keep _some_ secrets, doesn't he?"

She glares back, "I _will_ learn the answer some day."

"Oh, maybe," he chuckles in return, pulling her to the cafeteria, "I'll make sure to write it down somewhere you can find it if I die before I can tell you."

"You're talking at least sixty years here, ghost-boy," she growls.

He laughs, but doesn't reply. She feels the fear pierce her chest like a knife, and grasps his hand tighter. She knows why he doesn't respond; he won't promise something like that.

The fear that squeezes her heart is the price she pays for loving a hero.


	7. Twenty Years Ago

**A/N: Hello! This is the longest chapter so far! :D Remember: lots of reviews keep me writing! More of the A/N at the end, for spoilers. As usual, read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #7: Twenty Years Ago

"…blaming yourself again, aren't you?"

Jeremy strains his ears, trying to hear more of the conversation.

"…useless things that are _not_ your fault!"

"I…" the boy begins to argue.

"Tuck and I help you because we _want_ to, Danny. Yeah, the long nights…patch you up through my tears...wouldn't trade them for _anything_, Danny," she continues on softly.

"…hate seeing you hurt…wish we could just be normal teenagers for once. …vacation without worrying…enemies trying to kill us…explain our scars."

"…sounds a little boring, don't you think?"

He laughs.

"...satisfy your obsession."

"…really long trip."

They speak a little more, and Jeremy slips around another corner, listening intently as they pass by, unaware that he'd been listening in.

"…flying later…" he hears Sam whisper as they pass, hand-in-hand.

"…up for that…have a coat…?" Danny replies with a smile.

"Always…"

"…after we eat, when everyone's cleared out," he laughs.

_Flying?_ Jeremy wonders, _how…?_

"…ghost has to keep _some_ secrets, doesn't he?"

_Ghost?_

"…learn the answer…" she glares.

"…make sure to write it down…if I die before…"

"…at least sixty years…ghost-boy…" she growls.

The young man laughs, his eyes not matching his jovial smile. Sam's expression matches his, and her hand tightens on his. They finally vanish around a corner, their voices fading away completely as they stroll towards the cafeteria.

Jeremy moves from his hiding place, making for his own room. Suddenly, Sam's outburst earlier makes _much_ more sense. He holds back tears as he thinks of her expression when Danny hadn't replied to her 'sixty years' comment. Death isn't a joke to them; it's a reality that hangs over their heads on a regular basis. Not _her_ death, however. It's _his_.

From what he's been able to gather, Danny is the main fighter of the trio, with Tucker providing technical support and Sam providing cover fire. He'd seen the boy at the pool yesterday; including the scars that arc across his skin; particularly the one that slices across his collarbone to rest over his heart. He'd wondered what had could have caused such a thing. He's not sure if he wants to know.

_"__You have _no right_ to look down on him. He's the strongest, most courageous man I know, and _I love him._"_

"My little girl," he whispers to the emptiness of his room, "She's…really fallen in love."

It'd hurt, hearing her say what she did. Jeremy kicks off his shoes and lays back. A father is supposed to be the protector of his daughter's life, isn't he? Yet…here's Danny Fenton, the young man he thought was a clumsy, goofy, normal teenage boy.

He's not normal at all.

He can be goofy, and clumsy at times…but beneath his innocent blue gaze is a steel-hard and ice-cold glare that can freeze even ectoplasm. He conducts himself with grace in hardship, hardly blinking at their situation, only making a calm assessment and a plan with it. Throughout the day, he's helped to inspect the ship while Sam's assisted in the hospital, bandaging and bracing with efficiency. Neither teen seems particularly panicked about being adrift at sea, instead focusing on what needs to be done.

He's seen it in his daughter, now that he thinks about it. The way she walks, her eyes scanning the sky. Conversations at dinner, where she's casually mentioned something unusual, such as proper treatment for an injury or a firm firing stance. The constant supply of new clothing to replace torn, worn, and otherwise ruined clothes. They'd thought nothing of it; the frequent ghost attacks in Amity make ruined clothes a regular occurrence.

He thinks again to their actions in the ballroom. The chandelier had hit the ground before he noticed it had broken loose. Danny had nearly been crushed, pushing a woman out of the way; but he'd reached her in time, even from all the way at the buffet table. Similarly, he hadn't hesitated to put himself in harm's way to shield he and Pamela from a table.

"No wonder Sammy's worried," he whispers, "he never thinks of himself."

But he doesn't think that's the full extent of her worry.

"There's something I'm missing," he whispers.

"Like what?" Pam asks from the doorway, startling him.

"Something about Danny and the ghost-hunting," he replies honestly.

"You too, huh?" she whispers, setting herself on the edge of the bed.

He sits up and wraps his arms around her shoulders, "You want to talk?"

It's a code, between the two of them. She sighs and nods, slouching back against him, "Ignoring his…eccentric family and social standing…"

"I overheard some of a conversation between the two of them," he begins, leaning back against the wall, "Those kids, Pam…" he shakes his head, "I wish she just had a…typical teen problem. They have programs for those, but…you heard her."

"It's as though they grew up too fast," she frowns.

"Sammy's always worried that one day he'll disappear on her," he explains, "that one day, he's going to end up bleeding out on the pavement. You should have seen their faces, Pam," he pulls her closer, and tells her everything he heard.

"I told you she's doomed," she snorts, tears stinging her eyes.

"Doomed to have her heart broken when his stops," he whispers.

"…what about the flying comment?" she begins to pace the room, "do you think it's code for…something else?"

"We're looking past your dislike of him, Pam," he frowns, "And beyond that, we both know he's a relatively strait-laced kid. Besides, why would she need a coat? We're in the Caribbean…or we were…either way, it's not exactly cold outside."

"He can't fly, Jeremy."

He smoothes his hair back, but a few errant strands have broken from the hairspray, falling forward, "I don't know…who knows what the Fentons have created?"

"He would've used it by now to help us out!" she huffs, "besides, I thought we were ignoring the eccentric family?"

"As a measure to judge Danny," he corrects, "figuring out what's going on is completely valid."

"Well, a lot more makes sense once you add in the ghost hunting," she summarizes, seating herself before the mirror and beginning to remove her earrings, "but there's still one question I have."

"What would that be?"

"Why haven't we seen them?" she frowns, "the only hunters we ever see besides the Fentons are the Red Huntress and Phantom."

"That's right…" he whispers, _it can't be._

"What is?"

"That we haven't seen them," he replies smoothly, _It can't be…right?_

"Well, back to normal," she growls, "Either way you look at them as a couple, they're doomed to heartbreak and misery. Even if you exclude his freaky parents with their _awful_ fashion sense as well as their…lesser social standing…Danny himself if a problem. He pretends to be normal, but he's as ghost-crazed as his parents, and he'll only get himself killed while running around out there. There's no future in that!"

_Phantom…Danny Phantom…_

"Jeremy?"

_Fenton. Phantom. Fenton-Phantom…_

"Jeremy?" she questions again, touching his shoulder.

"Y-yes?" he starts, all blood draining from his face.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, dear," he smiles, "Just thinking of…new ways to convince my mother you aren't a gold-digger."

"Honestly," she snorts, "doesn't she realize that if I were, I'd have divorced you and taken everything you have by now?"

"It didn't work like that when she got married," he shrugs.

"Or poisoned you?"

"Modern technology makes it too easy to get caught. Self-preservation. Trust me, Pam," he laughs, "I've heard her rants on the matter of the two of us."

"All these years, and I still don't get along with my mother-in-law," she sighs.

"She doesn't hate you," he assures, "She just…doesn't trust you. More importantly, she _loves_ Sam. She was considered a bit of a rebel in her day too, and you represent the 'oppressive' party to them both."

"Because you're too soft to do it," she huffs.

"Because I'm too soft to do it," he agrees with a smile.

A little over twenty years ago, Jeremy Manson had met Pamela Breckenridge when she bumped into him, spilling her piping-hot coffee all over his designer shirt. He was working steadily towards a business degree at a private university. She was working as a secretary for a graphic design firm.

It had been hatred at first sight.

He demanded that she pay him back for the shirt. She told him it was _his_ fault for not watching where he was going. He calmly pointed out that she'd been walking on the left side of the sidewalk, against foot traffic, with an uncovered cup of coffee. She started screaming at him for spilling her coffee before pouring the rest over his head.

Over all, the whole event ended in a shouting match. He'd never met anyone who could make him react like that.

Two weeks later, they found themselves crammed together on the subway. Someone bumped into her, almost spilling her coffee on him once again – though, this time, she'd had a lid. He smirked and pointed out the change, and she insisted that she always had one, but a tell-tale blush lit her cheeks.

More people jostled her, and he told them off for it, letting her take a seat the moment one became available. He told her it was because he's a gentleman, and he didn't want to risk the lid popping off and ruining another shirt. He lied. He just didn't like people shoving her around as they wanted. He didn't know why it struck a chord in him.

It was here that he learned her name; Pamela. The Greek interpretation roughly meaning 'honey', or 'all sweetness.' He found it horribly ironic.

A week after that, they met on the street again. He tried to engage her in their usual banter, but she ignored him. He chased her down and offered to buy her a cup of coffee, noticing her empty hands and distraught expression. They made for his favorite café, where she proceeded to inform him that she'd discovered that her best friend's boyfriend from high school was cheating on her and didn't know what to do. Was she supposed to expose him? If so, how? Was it none of her business?

He listened…somewhat…he was distracted by the way the morning mist had made her coppery locks curl at the tips, and the way the lights reflected on her bright blue eyes, and their almost Asian tilt. Her carefully manicured nails, decorating soft, slender hands.

She talked herself into a decision; he hardly had to say a word. She would tell her; surely she would want to know, right? She had a right to know. She asked him why men cheat. He shrugged, telling her he didn't know. She sneered at this, taking a pointed sip, and inquired if he thought he was any different.

For once, he wondered if he was. It was only a moment, but it was a moment.

He'd never cheated. To be fair, he'd almost never dated – not seriously, anyhow. He'd gone to parties, had the occasional one-night-stand when he got particularly drunk…but he'd never been in a committed relationship.

He told her so, much to her shock. He didn't know why it surprised her so much, but she proceeded to admit she'd never had a relationship that lasted more than three months.

He was less than shocked, to be honest, but he played the game.

One thing he learned quickly about her was that she was very determined, and that she had a vision of how things should be. If you didn't fit into that vision, she'd get frustrated and try to reshape you to fit. He found her drive and energy a fitting balance to his laid-back and apathetic ways.

That was the day he got her number, and her his.

They proceeded to meet once a week, if their schedules would allow. He learned of her family, which had fallen from riches to the middle-class. It explained why she acted like an heiress. She learned of his; old money that had simply continued on thanks to the beauty of copyright and people who could get high-quality education, and therefore well-paying jobs that could reinforce the fortune.

He thought during these meetings that he _might_ actually like her.

Two months of meetings later, he waited in the café as planned, and she didn't show. She didn't pick up her phone. He began to get worried. He didn't pass her on the street as usual. He began to search for various accidents in the news, wondering if something had happened to her.

Finally, after a week of worrying – talk about an awful way to spend the holidays – she called him. She was in tears, and asked to meet up at the park. He agreed, and rushed out the door as quickly as he could, his feet driving him through the icy streets, his breath fogging up from behind his scarf.

She was waiting in a more secluded corner of the park, on a bench. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the first thing she did when she saw him was leap from her seat and wrap her arms around his waist, sobbing into his chest.

He froze for a moment, surprised, before noticing her bare arms exposed to the winter air. He removed his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders without a second thought and suggested they get back to his warm apartment. She refused, and finally told him what was wrong.

Her friend had committed suicide last week. She'd taken a bunch of sleeping pills. Pam got home early from work to take a shower before meeting with him, and noticed the note and empty bottle. She called an ambulance, but her weak pulse disappeared just before they entered. The EMTs resuscitated the young woman on the ambulance, but the damage had been done. She waited at the hospital until the family came. They spent a few days trying to find hope, but she was brain-dead, and they decided to pull the plug on her life support.

She was sad, but she was angry more than anything. Angry at the boyfriend for breaking her friend's heart, and angry at herself for telling her, for not noticing what was coming. He simply held her, stroking her hair and whispering his condolences. Telling her it wasn't her fault.

It was a while before he noticed how cold he was. Pam thanked him for his time and coat before turning to march away, but he caught her hand. She was exhausted, it was late at night, it was freezing, and she was in no state to be walking the street herself. He insisted that she stay at his place – he'd take the couch. She didn't even have the energy to argue with him.

Her own clothes had been soaked by the snow, so he lent her a pair of sweatpants and an old, baggy t-shirt. He decided that he liked how his clothes looked on her.

That was the first morning he woke up to her face, and he thought to himself that he'd be fine if it wasn't the last.

She crouched in front of the couch, a plate in her hand, and asked if he liked omelets. She was an excellent cook, and they enjoyed their breakfast together. She was slowly returning to herself, and by the time her clothes emerged from the dryer, he knew he'd fallen in love.

They started dating officially shortly after, and got engaged on the anniversary of the day they met. His parents, while excited that he was getting married, were still wary of her. They didn't think it would last.

Over twenty years later, he still loves her as much as he realized he did that day. No, he decides, he loves her more. She may be pushy, driven, irritable, and overemotional, but he still loves her. He still enjoys waking to her face in the morning, still enjoys the food, still enjoys seeing the way she takes on her world.

Sam takes after her more than either of them would ever admit. It's probably why they argue so often.

Pam watches him as he falls asleep, still fully dressed, and remembers the blond-haired, blue-eyed young man she'd met years ago. She'd originally thought he was an over-privileged jerk, albeit an attractive one. But as he slips into his slumber, his hair tousled, she recalls the way he'd looked that night, when she'd called him to the park. His hair had been messy, his blue eyes underlined by shadows, and a shadow of stubble adorned his jaw. She knew, somehow, that she'd caused all of it, including the worry in his eyes.

She kisses his forehead, kicking off her own shoes to join him on the bed.

"I'm just worried," she whispers, "I'm just scared that she'll get her heart broken like Lizzie did."

Even though he's asleep, his arms wrap around her, pulling her against his chest. His fingers twine unconsciously into the strands at the base of her neck. She takes a deep breath and allows her to slip into sleep as well, hoping that she'll be able to tell her daughter the real reason for her fear someday.

**A/N: Well, I'm waiting to see the reactions for this one. *Evil Laugh* This chapter has very little Amethyst Ocean, but I wanted to explain how Jeremy and Pam met and expand on them a little further. I hope you don't think Pam's too OOC. They're meant to balance each other out, and bring out traits you wouldn't normally see in them. Jeremy calms her down, while she drives him forward. This works because she feels a need to be in control.**

**Speaking of Jeremy…has he made the connection?! Dun-dun-DUUUNN!**

**See you next chapter! (Which I MAY upload tomorrow…we'll see. I promise nothing!)**


	8. Flight

**A/N: Please remember to read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY! A big thank-you to all who have! Welcome to the new reader/reviewers such as: Rhyolite56, , Phantom Misfit, KaLeigh Samantha, diseptiv, Moon's Meow and any other (relative) newbies to my 'verse. Muahahaha, welcome them to the fic, regulars! (The Talent, KodiaWolfe13, ShadowDragon357, KuriMaster13, StarlightWhovian, jim89, WhiteWinterStar, shugokage, to start.)**

Chapter #8: Flight

The night air breezes softly around them, the only light being that of the moon. Sam leans back against Danny's chest, and he tightens his arms around her. She closes her eyes, enjoying his scent, and the slow rise and fall of his chest.

"Ready?" he whispers.

"Always," she grins, securing her earmuffs and buttoning her coat. He laughs, leaning back against the ship's railing and allowing them to fall overboard. She can't help but let out a small squeak of surprise before he allows the white rings to wash over his body, and they swoop out over the waves and rocket up into the sky.

Laughter bubbles in her throat as they swirl into the air, her heart swelling in her chest. Danny laughs beside her, his hand locked on hers. His green eyes are bright with excitement.

"You know," he shouts, "It never gets old!"

"I agree!" she giggles back, swooping down, pulling him behind.

He pulls them back up, stopping to hover hundreds of feet over the ship. She floats up to 'stand' even with him, and he bows smoothly in-air, "May I have this dance?"

"Of course," she smiles, and they begin to twirl gently in the air. If anyone was watching from the deck, they would be a small silhouette against the moon, waltzing in the sky.

"We didn't get around to dancing at the party, even after you spent so much time teaching me," he smirks.

"You're doing better than_ I_ am up here," she chuckles, "I feel like I'm dancing on a sheet of ice and keep falling through occasionally."

He laughs, "I've had more practice."

"Just wait until I get my air-legs, ghost-boy," she growls playfully.

They slow to a stop, her head cradled against his shoulder, and his heart beating slowly beneath her fingertips. His gloved fingers brush through her hair, until they cup her chin, lifting her lips to his. Her fingers climb into his pearly hair, and a small moan escapes her as one of his hands coast over her shoulders and down to her waist, pulling her against him.

"Sam," he breathes, tangling his other hand into her hair, "I…"

His lips meet hers again, making her heart pound wildly in her chest, _::Shh…::_ she whispers in her mind. She traces her lips across his jaw to his neck, kissing gently at the hollow of his jaw. She hears him release a ragged breath, and can't resist the triumphant smirk that climbs to her face.

He rests his forehead against hers, his green eyes burning into hers, "You should be careful," he growls huskily.

"You don't scare me," she smirks, heart hammering in her chest as he tightens his hold on her.

"How _should_ I scare you?" he growls.

They share a laugh, and he takes her hand gently, "Well, ready to do some work while we play?"

"…which direction?"

He takes a deep breath, scanning the waves from their vantage point, "Well, I can't see any sign of land. I say we stay this high and go a mile out and sweep around in a circle from there. We'll stop at a radius of ten miles."

"Sounds good," she agrees, and they begin to drift out, their eyes scanning the ocean for any sign of land or life.

The air is cool against her face, but the coat and earmuffs she'd brought along are sufficient for the climate. Her hand tightens in his.

"You know…" she beings.

"Yeah?"

"I've always wondered. If you feel cold to me, do I feel…hot to you?"

His eyes lock onto hers, still smoldering from the heat of their kiss, "Burning hot." Blood rises in her cheeks, and he chuckles, his eyes flitting over the horizon.

They slowly spiral out from the ship, carefully scanning the ocean below and the horizon. They reach the ten-mile mark – or so Danny estimates – and there's been no sign of land nearby.

"We'll go out further tomorrow night," he mutters, "But it's almost time for the crew to start moving around."

"Yeah," she yawns.

"And you need to get some sleep."

She yawns again as they begin to float back towards the ship, but he stops suddenly.

"…did you see that?" he whispers.

"See what?" she asks behind blurry vision.

"Light," he replies, flying the opposite direction.

A shadow appears on the waves, graced with the occasional flicker of light, like a flashlight. They drop low to the waves, skimming over the surface.

"I don't think this is a rescue ship," he whispers. A red light flickers inside, and a green shield drops around the ship, narrowly missing Danny. They watch invisibly as men armed with AK-47s and ecto-weaponry file out on deck.

It's a relatively small boat, especially in comparison to the large cruise liner, built for speed.

"Keep an eye out for the spook, boys," one commands, "They're common in these waters. Not usually something to worry about, but we're _always_ cautious."

They wait invisibly outside the shield.

"…no movement on the liner, captain. She's stranded, alright."

"Security?"

"No escort ships," the man from below deck adds, "If there were, they were washed away by the storm. "

"Good," he grins toothily, "I like easy targets."

_::Pirates,:: _Sam breathes, _::Modern-day pirates.::_

_::You can't be serious.::_ Danny groans, _::Pirates with anti-ghost tech and a cruise ship just waiting to be held for ransom. Perfect.::_

_::What should we do?:: _she asks, _::We can't let them just…::_

_::We can't do more than delay them,:: _he explains, lifting a hand. His eyes glow blue, and ice begins to form around the shield, hemming the ship in, _::It won't take long to melt with this climate and the saltwater.::_

_::We have to warn the ship in the meantime,::_ she replies.

_::Yeah,::_ he tucks her to his chest and zooms upwards as quickly as he can, banking sharply towards the ship once he thinks he might be out of range of whatever they'd used to detect them. She curls into his chest, burying her face into his shoulder to protect it from the air.

They alight on the deck, and he allows the rings to phase over his body in a flash of light. He's out of breath after the long flight and the large quantity of ice, but they rush for Al's cabin.

"What?" he snaps angrily, answering the flurry of knocks at his door.

"Pirates," Sam pants, "on their way."

"There aren't _pirates_ in _these_ waters," he growls.

"There are now," Danny adds.

"And how would _you two_ know?" he frowns.

They share a glance, not having come up with an explanation.

"Well…"

"It's a long story, really…" Danny adds nervously, "Can we just say 'my parents' ghost-tech' and call it good?"

"Ghost tech helped you find pirates?" he deadpans.

"Yes?"

"Go back to bed," he hisses, beginning to close the door.

"I detected a ship approaching while fiddling with my parent's weapons and the radar system," Danny lies quickly, holding the door open, "Whoever it is, they have ghost tech, and are about thirteen miles out. The human eye can see the flame of a candle from thirty miles away on a dark night, yet we aren't seeing any lights. Why would someone be making a beeline for a liner they _know_ is there without any signal?!"

"You were fiddling with the _radar system_?"

"…somewhat," he continues, _::Okay…I hope I can actually make it do that. Where's Tuck when you need him?::_

_::No kidding.::_

"What are we supposed to do if there _are_ pirates?" he sighs.

"Unload as many people as possible," Danny explains, "A few lifeboats were damaged, but what we have left can hold most of the passengers."

"We don't even know if the signal beacons are working!" he hisses.

"They'll probably be able to reach land and get us some help!" he retorts, "If these people are friendly, they can help us pick up those in the lifeboats. If they aren't, then at least we minimize potential hostages!"

He stares at the coal-haired teen in his doorway, "We'll discuss it with the others later. I'm too tired right now. If, by morning, you're ready to admit that this is a prank, I'll forgive you," the door slams in his face.

_::Well, at least I have until morning to fiddle with the radar,::_ he swallows nervously, _::I hope I'm more familiar with my parent's work than I think I am.::_

-BREAK-

"Ever get a really bad feeling, Val?" Tucker questions, laying back on the grass, arms behind his head.

"Like what?" she presses, closing her eyes against the sun.

"Like you're really needed somewhere but you're not sure where?"

"…not really," she shrugs, "why, you feel like that?"

"I don't know why," he frowns, "But I feel like someone needs me…"

"Mayor Tucker!" a young man shouts, running over in his suit and tie, "There's an urgent matter that requires your assistance!"

"…there it is," Valerie smirks, sitting up, "Have fun with work, Babe."

They exchange a brief kiss, "The picnic was amazing," he smiles, "Thanks."

"I'll head out on a patrol and then get to work at the Nasty Burger," she replies quietly, "go."

"Love you, Val."

"I…" she blushes, "You too, Tuck."

**A/N: I hope you're enjoying the story. :D A big thanks to all who've reviewed! Continue to do so~~! It's been fun to see your reactions to Pam and Jeremy's story last chapter. The most common comment was about "making Pam more human," but there were still a few who were like 'eh, don't care, she's still a witch with a capital B.' Anyway, here's the flight you were waiting for! As Ladd Russo would say:**

**"****Thank you, *BLEEP* you, the villain has arrived!"**

**We'll learn more about our pirate friends and their various personalities later; probably next chapter, which I plan to upload tomorrow (Remember; no promises), as I probably won't be updating Thurs. or Fri. this week.**

**EDIT: Also, I've uploaded some sketches of the important characters of this fic (the ones I haven't drawn before…) and some TuckXVal cuddles. Links are in my profile. :D**


	9. Conjecture

Chapter #9: Conjecture

"Well…it _was_ working…seems that after I came to get you, the circuitry blew," Danny scrubs at the back of his neck, "ecto-energy is…unpredictable."

"How did you even do it in the first place?" one of the technicians stares in wonder at the pile of melted wires by the radar screen.

"I have no idea," he admits, "I just…the specter deflector is wired to pick up ghost frequencies, so…I figured we might be able to use it to make sure Vortex or someone doesn't sneak up on us…I…I don't think I could do it again."

"And you're _certain_ something was on the screen?"

"Yeah. I could make out their ghost shield with the binoculars," he nods. He and Sam had worked to create a more believable story until sunrise, while he fiddled with the wiring and circuitry enough before frying them to debunk any attempts to re-create it, "I couldn't see much else, though, they were too far away."

"And you're _certain_ they're pirates?" the Captain asks skeptically.

"A small, lightweight boat sailing without lights in the middle of the night while making for an adrift cruise liner?"

"It…_is_ suspicious…" he admits, "But why did they stop?"

"I don't know," Danny shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, "There was another, smaller blip on the radar. My guess? They can't move when they have the shield in place. It's probably an older, less-portable model. They picked up a ghost on their sensors and had to wait it out. By the time it left, they were still too far out to make it here before daybreak."

"It's all still conjecture," the captain sighs.

"Do you have weapons on board?"

"We have a few sailors, myself included, authorized to carry weapons."

"Would they be enough to defend the ship from…say…a crew carrying AK-47s, RPGs, and other automatic or explosive weapons?"

"…no."

"That's what modern-day pirates are using," Sam interjects, "And we have no escort vessels. No one knows we're stranded out here, let alone _where we are_."

"And you want us to set out in the rescue rafts? You realize that the signal beacons may or may not be working, and that we don't have enough to unload everyone, right?"

"Excluding the crew, how many could you unload?" Danny asks quietly.

He clenches his jaw, "Nearly all passengers," he whispers, "I'd want each boat to have at least one crew member, though, for safety and navigation. We can't decide between passengers–"

"I'd stay," Danny interrupts, "I've been in worse situations."

"I'd stay too," Sam adds, silencing a look from her boyfriend, "Danny and I can handle any situation thrown at us. As he said, we've dealt with worse."

"Like what?" the captain frowns.

"Being trapped in the ghost zone, separated, nearly killed, and organizing a jailbreak," Danny begins, "Fighting the King of Ghosts, keeping my mortal enemy from killing my dad and marrying my mom, being tortured by that enemy, then escaping, and going back to school the next day only to be shoved into a locker again…do I need to continue?"

"He definitely gave you the short list," Sam whispers, "We've been doing this for more than four years now. Trust me, Danny and I know how to survive."

"…do your parents know?" Al asks quietly, much more subdued than he was earlier that morning.

"About the ghost-hunting? Only since yesterday, but they knew _something_ about the time we were stranded in the ghost zone," she replies, "It was a class trip, and when a class of students goes into the Ghost Zone and doesn't come out…parents notice. But they don't know the extent of it."

"The extent of it?" he presses.

"Danny…" she sighs, and he promptly removes his shirt.

"I tell anybody who asks when I go swimming it was a car crash," he turns slowly, allowing them to see all of the marks, "I can make them heal up and go away faster with some of the tech in the lab, but…"

"…it doesn't get rid of them entirely," she finishes, her fingers brushing the one that crosses his left collarbone, ending over his heart, "…this one was from the field trip, and so was…" she traces a smaller one that curves around his side and crosses his stomach, "…this one…there are more, but those were the biggest ones. Mrs. Fenton thought he was dead. I can still hear her sobbing over the radio when I think about it."

"Sam…" he whispers.

"Either way, we've probably seen more combat than nearly anyone on this ship," she turns to face them, and Danny pulls his shirt back over his head, "We can stay behind. I would suggest we unload families first; we don't want anyone getting separated."

"We'd still be leaving some passengers behind–" The captain argues.

"Ask for volunteers," she suggests, "That way, you don't have to choose. It'll show no bias, no favoritism."

"We don't know if the beacons are working–"

"We want to minimize potential hostages," she replies, "Can you honestly say that they'd be safer here with pirates?"

"We have food here," he argues, "Water…"

"But _we can't move_," she replies, "We're _dead in the water_. If they're in the boats, they can at least find some land, or run into another ship. We can't communicate with anyone right now. The rescue boats are the only option!"

"If they're pirates, they'll be holding us for a ransom. They'll contact the government and do it quickly. If that's the case, we can rescue those on the rafts. Either they save us or we save them. Seas have currents, typical patterns. They'll be able to find them even if the beacons aren't working," Danny explains.

"It still seems risky…" he scratches at his beard.

"It's up to you, Captain."

-BREAK-

"Frozen!" a man snorts, punching at the ice with the heel of his boot, "Saltwater?!"

"If you can get it cold enough," another replies dryly, tying back his shoulder-length dreadlocks, "You need to calm down, Ross, that ship isn't going anywhere."

The blond-haired man runs a hand through his spiky hair, his face red, "Don't tell me what to do, Burgess!"

"He's right," Another man growls from inside, "shut up and calm down. We can't go right now anyway."

"Stupid ghost," Ross hisses, scratching at the patchy scruff on his jaw, "it _froze us in place_!"

The man from inside hops up to the deck, stretching; he's surprisingly young, "Yeah, a bit unusual, but it isn't the first time we've had a run-in with the local spooks. First one with ice-powers, but…"

"What do they _usually_ do?"

"Make a lot of noise, mostly," he shrugs, his sweat making his dark hair curl at the tips, "There've been a few who tried to drag men under–"

"Some who've succeeded," Burgess adds.

"I once had one try to strangle me…"

"This isn't funny, Ramirez!" Ross spits.

"It's all true," he lifts his hands defensively, "One sucked the life from the last newbie we had on board. He was just a shriveled little husk by the end."

"It's why now, at the sign of any spectral activity, we activate the shield," a new voice explains calmly, "They're right, Ross, you need to calm down."

"Y-yes, Captain Kovich."

Kovich smiles, his brown eyes abnormally cold, "Good. We'll start heading in around twilight. We'll sneak on board and split into two groups. One will take the captain's quarters, while the other will find the patron. We know he and his rich little friends are all on board. Fate pushed them into our path today, gentlemen," he smiles, "and any little hiccups are for our own benefit," he pulls a quarter from his pocket, flipping it into the air, smiling as it lands on heads, "She's still smiling on us, boys. My lady luck still sails on this demon's sea."

**A/N: Yay! Chapter #9! Introducing Ross, Burgess, Ramirez, and Kovich! There are a few other cremembers, but they're the important ones. The others are just…grunts…for now. We'll see if I feel the need to flesh out any of the others. Anyway, don't expect me to update tomorrow or Friday, as I'll be busy with work. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Also: There are some more links to sketches in my profile. (I thought I'd added the link for Sam's parents, but apparently, I hadn't. This has been fixed.) I've uploaded sketches of our piratical friends, link on my profile, and in the description will be little bios to tell you what I probably won't be mentioning in the story.**


	10. The Accident

Chapter #10: The Accident

"You're making the right choice," Danny assures, watching as the remaining lifeboats are readied.

"I hope so," the captain mutters in return, his grey eyes flicking over the awaiting passengers.

"Don't we all?" he whispers under his breath. Sam takes his hand reassuringly, earning a small smile.

"What's to say the pirates – if that's what they are – don't go after them?"

"They're leaving in the day. Our friends don't want to be seen, and the pattern of the boats will further discourage them. Each one will have an armed crewmember on board. I have other measures in mind as well," he replies calmly.

"Other measures?" the captain turns to him, one eyebrow raised.

"Lose lips sink ships, captain," he smirks, turning to leave, "and so do icebergs."

The captain stares after him in confusion, but before he can ask any further questions, the door to the bridge slams open, revealing a furious, red-faced, Pamela Manson.

"Samantha Faith Manson!" she shrieks.

_::Your middle name is Faith?::_ Danny asks, watching the mother in horror.

_::You are _never_ to say it,::_ she growls back.

_::Absolutely not…Samantha Faith Manson.::_

She elbows him, "Yeah, Mom?"

"You're planning to _stay behind_?!"

"Yeah," she shrugs.

The flustered matron steps forward, taking her daughter by the shoulders and pulling her to a more private corner of the room, "Sammykins, you can't be serious!"

"I am," she retorts, pulling out of her manicured grasp, "There are a lot of other people who should be off this boat instead of me. I can handle myself!"

"Is _he_ staying behind?"

"Of course," she snorts, "If we had to leave only one person behind, he'd volunteer for that position and you couldn't leave someone else behind without killing him first."

"I know you…you…" she takes a deep breath, "…I know you love him, Sweetie, but…isn't this a bit far?"

"So who do you want to kick off of the boats?" Sam growls.

"I'm sure that someone else will volunteer to stay behind…"

"Someone who knows how to fight? How to fire a weapon? Who's been in situations like this before?!" she stamps her foot.

"That _one time_ in the Ghost Zone, and you're an expert in survival?!"

"Danny, Tuck and I have been hunting ghosts for _years_!" Sam shouts, "You think we haven't been kidnapped, used as hostages, stranded, or a whole _host_ of other predicaments before?! Danny has a _mortal enemy_, for crying out loud! Several ghosts are vying for the position, now that Plasmius is lost in space!"

Jeremy Manson slips through the door, sidling up to Danny. They both watch the two women for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Danny," he states quietly, "Pam…she's just worried."

"I'd be siding with her, if I thought it'd change Sam's mind," Danny whispers, "But she's right; she's more used to situations like this than most on the ship. Besides, it'll be nice to have someone who knows…"

"…that's you're Danny Phantom?" Jeremy mutters, audible only to the halfa.

Danny's eyes grow wide, and his head slowly swivels to the older man, his lips parting slightly.

"Fenton and Phantom," he snorts, "…Amity Park is full of idiots."

"It's just hard to see what contradicts everything you know," Danny replies softly, "Danny Fenton's a quiet, clumsy, cowardly weakling with odd parents. Just your average, awkward teen boy."

"Not a hero."

"Not a ghost, either," green flicks through his irises, sending an icy shiver up Jeremy's spine.

"How…?"

"…may I talk to you somewhere else? They'll probably be at this for a while," he motions to the arguing pair, who've completely changed topic. Having started with the lifeboats, they've begun shouting about Sam's 'ridiculous rebellion phase' and Pam's desire to 'relive her youth' through her daughter.

"Let's head to the stern?"

"…opposite of the people preparing the lifeboats…" Danny muses, "sounds good."

They stride through the corridor in silence, their eyes contemplative. Each constructs what he plans to say. When they reach the stern, Danny leans on the railing with a deep breath, enjoying the sea breeze.

"It happened in the lab," he begins abruptly, "But…probably not the way you're thinking," he laughs, seeing Jeremy's horrified expression, "My parents didn't know about this until the field trip."

"So…" Jeremy joins him, taking a deep breath as well, "how _did_ it happen?"

"Just before we started our freshman year, my parents completed the ghost portal. All of their work, their plans, their research…their _life_…was complete; but, when they plugged it in, it…it didn't work. They fell into a bit of a slump and just quit on it. One day, I took Sam and Tucker down to the lab, because they wanted to see it. I…I'm not supposed to bring people down to the lab, but…I couldn't tell them no when they begged and begged to see it. My parents were out, so…I thought it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look," he smirks.

"Did it?" Jeremy asks quietly.

"Yeah," he coughs, "…do you know what it's like to get shocked _literally_ half to death?" he laughs, "Sam convinced me to go into the broken, empty portal. Unfortunately, while I was in there, I tripped on a wire and when I put my hand on the wall to steady myself…I heard something click. Everything just goes white there. All I can remember is the pain, and…I think I heard screaming, but…I'm not sure if it was mine, or someone else's…" his blue eyes have turned green, and his fingers clench, "I barely remember stumbling out of the portal and thinking that something was…_wrong_. Tucker had gone pale; Sam looked terrified, and ready to cry. I remember thinking that I had to be having a nightmare, because Sam _doesn't cry._ I didn't think she did, anyway, at the time. She ran over to me, and then the world went dark. I woke up in my room."

Jeremy's white-knuckled grip on the railing strengthens, his head bowed, "…she said that _she_ was technically the reason you hunt ghosts," he whispers.

"It's true that without Sam, Danny Phantom wouldn't exist," he replies gently, "Trust me; I know. Desiree, the wishing ghost…one time, Sam and I had a fight, and she wished she'd never met me. Desiree heard her and made it come true. It's weird…I can remember what it's like to not know Sam. _That _version of me was terrified of ghosts. He was the Danny Fenton I pretend to be. Sam later wished that she'd never had that fight with me, reversing the whole incident. Of course," he smirks, "The whole story is a lot longer than that, but…that's for another time."

"…what was it like?" Jeremy asks, "Waking up to realize…?"

"Well," Danny relaxes, "As I said, I woke up in my room…"

-BREAK-

_The space poster on the ceiling slowly fades into view. Dully, he can hear the shuffle of chairs against the floor, and muffled voices, as though he's underwater. Sam's face appears in his vision, followed by Tucker. His eyes screw shut with a groan as a ripple of pain travels up his spine, his hands fisting into the sheets. He feels as though the energy still travels along his nerves, causing his muscles to spasm._

_"…__anny? D…Danny?"_

_"__Sam?" he manages to croak, "Tuck?"_

_"__Do we need to call your parents?" Tucker asks, "I think you might need to go to the hospital..."_

_A wave of panic washes over him, and the world around him clears, "No!" he shouts, "They can't know I took you guys down there without permission!"_

_"__Danny, you just got _electrocuted_!" Sam defends._

_"__And that's not all…" Tucker clears his throat, "There's, uh…" He shifts in his chair._

_"__There's what?" Danny asks, his eyes traveling along his body. He's still in the hazmat suit, on his bed. There's something wrong, beyond the tiny threads of pain, a chill deep in his chest…_

_"__That," Tucker whispers hoarsely as a shining white ring appears around his friend's waist. Danny scrambles back on his bed, trying to escape it, but it expands, the colors of his suit inverting as each ring travels upward. The chill blossoms in his chest, and he floats upward briefly from his sheets. He looses a yelp, and falls heavily back to the mattress._

_"__I think you need to um…see it yourself," Sam points to the mirror against the wall, and he rushes over, his breath leaving him in one long rush. It barely feels as though it's his own face staring back at him. The reflection has silver-white hair, a faint glow around him, and green eyes that glow back._

_"__I…am I…" he whispers, his legs crumpling beneath him. Sam and Tucker rush over, taking his arms, "Am I…" his throat goes dry, "…a…g-g…" he takes a deep breath, "a ghost?"_

_The question hangs in the air, his voice barely audible despite the silence._

_Sam's hands tremble, "I…you're not…" she swallows, "you're not…d…dead, Danny," she whispers, "I thought you were, because I couldn't find your pulse, but I…" a faint blush appears on her cheeks._

_"__She put her head to your chest, and she was finally able to hear your heartbeat," Tucker finishes for her._

_"__A-a-and your chest was moving; you were breathing," she adds, "You…you don't look like this all the time…"_

_"__How long has it been?" he squeaks weakly._

_"__Four hours," Tucker replies softly._

_"__I…I don't understand…" Heat, raw fear, claws its way into his chest, and the bright rings appear again. He flinches, trying to escape them, but Sam and Tucker hold him in place. They phase through the two humans, and his white suit appears again. Blue eyes stare back from the mirror, behind black bangs._

_"__See?" Sam whispers, stroking his hair with shaking fingers, "Not all the time…"_

_"__What…" he feels tears stinging at his eyes. He tries to blink them away – how can he cry in front of _Sam_?! – but they fall down his cheeks anyway, "What…_am_ I?"_

_"__We'll figure this out, Danny," She comforts, clutching him to her shoulder, "we'll never let anything happen to you…"_

_Tucker sniffs quietly, tears causing his own eyes to shine, "Never again…"_

_Danny breaks into quiet sobs, his tears soaking her shirt. The little shocks still travel to his fingertips, and they tighten around her arms until he feels himself suddenly become lighter, like a shell. He falls through her _and_ the floor, the weight returning to him in just enough time to land on the dining table._

_He groans, staring up at the bulb hanging from the kitchen ceiling. Footsteps slap on the floor, and his friends appear, breathless, in the entryway._

_"__Danny, are you okay?" Sam gasps._

_"__What…?"_

_"__You did that earlier, too, when we tried to carry you up here," Tucker explains, "You went right through Sam's hands."_

_He sits up, massaging the back of his head, where he hit it on the table._

_"__I don't think my new look is the only thing we have to worry about," he chuckles forcefully._

_"__No," Tucker smiles in a similarly forced manner, "I don't think it is."_

-BREAK-

"We focused on controlling my transformation up in my room. We figured that was the most obvious one…though I didn't want to fall through my floor again. I spent the next few months figuring them out. Of course, school started, and I was soon banned from handling anything fragile. I broke a _ton_ of beakers, because I'd phase through them. I started fighting ghosts when I found them coming through my parent's portal, and they attacked Sam and Tucker. They were low-level, just some ecto-pi. One time, a few days after my first fight, they came back for revenge. We were in the lab with my dad," he laughs, "he turned his back for a few seconds, and the ghosts he'd been wanting to see all his life came from the portal. They grabbed Sam and Tucker, I beat them up and tossed them back into the portal…but I wouldn't say I was an official 'ghost hunter' until the incident with the Lunch Lady. At first, I only had your basic ghost powers: intangibility, invisibility, flight, overshadowing, heightened reflexes…but as time went on, I got my ghost rays, energy shields, ice powers, duplication – Vlad's specialty, it took me _forever_ to learn it – and…The Wail. Now that I think about it…" he mutters, "Maybe it wasn't long after _that_ I had to start feeding on emotions to supplement my diet…"

"Wait," Jeremy straightens, "Feeding…on _emotions_?"

Danny shrugs, "I'm half-ghost. Emotions are a ghost's energy. I got too powerful for my own emotions to feed me, so I have to feed on others a little. At least…that's what Frostbite theorizes. Vlad was miserable enough to sustain himself, but I'm overall happy. I have loving parents, an overall happy family, two best friends – one of whom is my girlfriend and I'm fairly certain she's also the love of my life – I save people on a regular basis, so my obsession gets fed–"

"Obsession?"

"Right," Danny laughs, "Not well-versed on the life of your average ectoplasmic being. All ghosts have one. Vlad's was possession – specifically of my mom – gained by power. The Lunch Lady's is the school menu, Skulker's is hunting, Ember's is fame, Desiree's is wishes, The Box Ghost's is…well, you get the point. Every ghost has an obsession, even halfas like Plasmius and myself. A ghost gains more power as they feed theirs, but they'll lose their sanity if they do so too much. In the case of a halfa…I could lose my humanity…" he swallows, "…like Vlad did. However, not feeding an obsession at all can warp you just as quickly. It's a tightrope," he snorts, "That's what my life is. I balance on a wire above everyone else. I'm ghost and human. I'm the courageous hero, and I'm the cowardly weakling. I have to feed my obsession, but not too much. Sam and Tucker…everyone I care about…they're my safety net. If they disappear…" his gaze becomes distant, the green in his eyes swirling in torment, "…if they disappear, and I fall…no, I _will_ fall if they…" he swallows, "...If I fall, it's not a good thing, Mr. Manson," he whispers hoarsely, "trust me. If I lose them…I…humanity's screwed."

"…Danny?" he whispers, "What do you–"

He doesn't answer, instead phasing through the railing and vanishing from sight. A cool breeze blows past Jeremy's ear, and he stares out at the sea by himself.

"Sammy, you really know how to pick them, don't you?" he whispers sadly, "Your mother's right. You're doomed. Doomed to love him up to the day he dies a hero, leaving you behind. Doomed to wallow in your loss until you wish he'd never existed at all. That _you_ never existed at all."

"…and that's what scares you," Sam whispers softly behind him, startling the older man.

"Sammy!" he gasps, "You shouldn't scare me like that!...where's your mother?"

"She's gone to your cabin to take some Aspirin and sleep off her headache," she snickers, "So…Danny tells me you've figured out the big secret."

"Did he fly to you after he vanished on me?"

"Doesn't need to," she smirks, noticing his confusion, "He didn't mention that part?"

"What part?"

"I'll tell you someday," she laughs, "I need to keep _some_ secrets."

He raises his hands in surrender, "Honestly, I think I've gotten enough of secrets for the day."

"You've definitely chosen the big one. I suppose most of our other secrets are connected to it, though, so you didn't have much of a choice."

"Not really."

"…you're taking this pretty well," she comments, perplexed, "better than I expected."

"I've been thinking about it for a while," he whispers, "Besides, despite what you think, Sammy, I don't _hate_ Danny. Not more than a father's supposed to by default, of course…" he smirks, "but I don't _hate_ him."

"…you're different when mom's not around," she mutters.

"I love your mother to death, Sammy," he snorts, "Doesn't mean she doesn't drive me crazy sometimes. Actually," he laughs, "It's how I realized I was in love with her, I think. No one else could get under my skin, make me react the way she did. I think that arguing with _her_ may have been the first time I ever raised my voice since I was young enough to throw tantrums."

"You…argue?" she blinks, surprised.

"Not so much anymore," he grins, "But when we first met? She dumped her coffee over my head – what she hadn't already spilled over the designer shirt I was demanding she replace."

"Now that I think about it…I never really learned the specifics of how you two met," she mutters, leaning against the railing beside him, "…is that weird?"

"Probably," he replies gently, "But it…what happened at the same time to your mother…she doesn't like talking about it. It's a major factor in the reason for her dislike of Danny, actually. It's not my place to tell you the details, but I'll tell you what I can, if you'd like."

"You know, Dad," she smiles, "I..I think I would."

**A/N: Well, a late-day update, but..an update! How have you fared for two…almost three days without me? Quick notes on updates:**

**MAYBE: Sunday, Monday, Thursday, Friday. (May start a chapter on Thurs., finish and upload on Fri.?)**

**Definitely: (Well…almost definitely…) Tuesday, Wednesday**

**I learn my new schedule on Thursdays, so I'll try to update you on that. **

**Now for stuff relevant to the story:**

**I don't know Sam's middle name, but "Faith" just seemed to fit to me. Don't ask me why; it just did. I'm sure I could come up with some random, deeply-analytical reason if someone asked, but the truth is that it was just the first thing that came to mind. I like to trust my instincts when writing. It just feels like something her parents would choose. I could also see them choosing "Joy," or "Hope," but they don't flow as well as "Faith."**

**Also, I'm considering starting a forum topic about the J.O.S. continuum, to answer non-spoiler questions in-depth. The exact way the telepathy started, for instance. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to work in the specifics without sidetracking from the story too much…and answering other non-spoiler questions about the fic/s. I could also post updates on my schedule (and therefore the update-days) there as well. What do you guys think? Would that be of any use to you?**


	11. Boarding

Chapter #11: Boarding

Night has fallen once again over the ocean, dark clouds covering the sky. The ocean is black as pitch; perfect cover.

Kovich smiles, "See, what did I tell you, Ross?" he claps the nervous blond man on the back, "Any hiccups are for our benefit. Last night, the moon was ridiculously bright, now we have perfect darkness."

"What about the boats they sent out?" Burgess frowns, "Why didn't we stop them?"

"Burg," Ramirez smiles, "Didn't you notice that a few of the boats were damaged in the storm? With the passenger manifest, there's no way they could have crammed everyone on them. Someone was left behind, that's for certain."

"It's easier this way," Kovich assures, "We have fewer people to control. We probably would have had to kill some of them to make our point."

"Well," the young man pouts, "hopefully, we'll find at least _one person_ who'll resist."

"There's something wrong with you," Burgess snorts.

"There is?"

"Seriously wrong," he repeats, earning a puzzled expression in return.

"Regardless," Kovich clears his throat, "We should get going. Move quietly; the remaining passengers could be armed. Watch out for that ghost from the previous night, too."

"We didn't see him, Captain," Ross whispers.

"No, but the other ghosts nearby freaked when they saw the ice," Ramirez replies, casting his mind back. The ghost had been a long-haired woman who floats in the water around the boat; they call her Rose. She is a typical sight in this area; a regular. She simply floats, her dead eyes staring up, and mutters about the stars, talking to a long-dead lover. But the other night, upon floating near the ice, she'd flown from the water, wailing about 'The Phantom.' Other ghosts had become paler upon hearing her, and fled to _wherever_ ghosts flee. Other phrases, such as 'Pariah's Venom', 'King-Sealer', 'Halfa', 'Savior of the Two Realms', 'Warrior-King of the Far Frozen', and 'Observants' Bane' had been heard in the cacophony of shouts as they flew away.

It worried him, but he would never admit it.

None of them would.

…well, except maybe Ross.

-BREAK-

The ship is quiet, the only sounds being the quiet lapping of the waves. Danny watches the ocean, hidden in the shadows. Jeremy Manson, Alphonse Lacroix, and Captain Lex Voss sleep in the cabins behind him.

_::How are things on your side?::_ Sam asks from across the ship.

_::I think they're beginning to move,::_ he replies, _::They let the boats get away, so they might have thermal imaging of some kind.::_

_::Fewer hostages are easier to control.::_

_::Yeah,::_ he sighs, _::So how are things over there?::_

_::My mom finally fell asleep. Natalie Lacroix…I can't believe that stupid Barbie from the pool stayed behind…!::_

_::Sam,::_ he warns, _::Can you still call her a Barbie after she willingly stayed behind to let that husband on with his wife and child?::_

_::Yes,::_ she sniffs, _::She's just not a paddling-pool like Paulina.::_

_::Ah, specific terminology,::_ he snickers, fingering his pocket.

He doesn't _dare_ leave _it _anywhere _it_ could be picked up by pirates. Now _it_ has to stay on his person. He'll have to guard his thoughts more carefully as well.

He takes a deep breath of the cool night air, allowing his mind to go blank. Tiny threads of emotion prick at his consciousness, and he tugs gently at them before snipping them off. He's going to need all of the energy he can get.

-BREAK-

The ship is entirely dark when they arrive. Kovich stares at the thermal camera, slowly sweeping the liner from bow to stern. No heat signatures appear on deck, save for one unusual flicker. It isn't red, however, so he dismisses it as a glitch in the screen. He turns and nods to his crew, consisting of two groups.

Ramirez nods, and he and Ross each fire an air-powered grappling hook, which latches onto the railing. They attach harnesses to small winches, and are pulled steadily up with a soft whine.

Assured that they're doing well, Kovich turns to Burgess and nods. They each lift their own grappling hooks and fire with a soft pop. They all begin to file softly onto the ship, a total of twelve men, six to each group. He orders the other team towards the stern, and he starts his own team towards the bow.

They have some hostages to find.

-BREAK-

Danny watches them, intangible and invisible in the water far enough away to avoid their ghost sensors. He watches them scale the ship, sending everything he sees to Sam, who directs her group – consisting of Pam, Natalie, and Ida – to avoid them.

The final men leave the ship, disappearing over the railing, and he floats back up, phasing through the wall and into the engine room, where he regains his human form. He opens the door, spitting into the hallway where Jeremy and the other two men wait.

"How do you do that?" Alphonse hisses.

"Do what?"

"Just…vanish and reappear," he frowns, "One minute, you're leading us, the next you disappear around a corner and I'm told over these little radios by Samantha that you're watching the pirates, and then you show up from the engine room?"

"I told you," he smirks, "I do stuff like this all the time. Don't think about it too hard."

"Are we still certain these are pirates?" Captain Voss asks.

"They just boarded us with air-powered grappling guns," Danny retorts, "I'm fairly certain."

"Alright," he nods, "did you notice how many there were?"

"Twelve," he replies, "They split into groups of six, one headed towards the bow, another to stern. They know that not everyone got off of the ship…" he takes a deep breath, clenching his jaw, "We need to focus on evading them for now. We don't have the manpower to take them out, especially at night. They probably have infrared equipment."

_::You could take them out,::_ Sam whispers in his mind.

_::They're _human_, Sam. I…I won't hurt them.::_

_::Your ghost powers don't hurt _people_ the same way they hurt ghosts, you know that!::_

_::Except that I'm a lot stronger than I was,::_ he hisses back, _::Besides, when have we ever _proven_ that it doesn't hurt humans?::_

He can feel her fighting within herself, weighing the options.

_::…we have guns, Danny,::_ she mutters, _::My parents are pretty good shots, and so is Captain Voss. Someone could end up hurt anyway. Your powers give you more control–::_

_::Let's hope it never comes to that.::_

_::And your secret…::_ she sighs, _::I…you've seen the way the government's been locking down on spectral activity, right?::_

_::Which is exactly why we need to keep it as quiet as possible,:: _he replies gently, _::Or I might…::_

_::You might end up in prison,::_ she finishes quietly.

_::Or worse,::_ he confirms, images of scalpels and dissection tables flashing through his mind, making him sick.

"Daniel, are you okay?" Al asks, concern etched on his face.

"What?" he swallows thickly, "And please, call me Danny."

"Well, Danny," he corrects, "Are you feeling okay? You look really pale."

"I'm fine," he assures, "Just thinking through all scenarios, and that includes the bad ones. Don't worry about it."

"What kind of bad scenarios?" Jeremy asks quietly.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Danny's hand clenches, "If anything happens, I'm the one who ends up in trouble. I'm not letting anything happen to anyone here," green swirls in his eyes, seen only by someone looking for it.

The older man stares at him for a moment before nodding.

_Just so long as you don't die on her._

**A/N: Here's chapter #11! Tomorrow will be an Amity chapter, as far as I have it planned. Things will really be picking up soon, now that our pirates are on board. :D Also, I've created a forum for this series. It has two sections, the Q&A and the Question Submission threads. Go to Question Submission to…well…submit questions. I upload new threads under Q&A for each topic. I've uploaded two threads to answer two very common questions. The link is on my profile: enjoy!**

**Kattyllin: Tuck being mayor is canon. At the end of the final episode, he mentioned himself as being the youngest mayor of Amity Park. :D So yeah, he's canonically mayor. Not sure if it was intended to be more than temporary, but in my 'verse, it is.**


	12. Respect

**A/N: Well, here we go! A short chapter…kind of. This is all Tuck and Valerie, really. :D I can't write a story ****_completely_**** without them. Now, some of you think the Amity Arc here is important. It…kind of is…but really, it's actually a lot of subtle buildup for "Crown of Fire." Regardless, don't forget that I have reasons for nearly everything I do. Never, ever forget that. All things have reasons. Also, to remind you: I have a forum for questions now! You can find a link to it on my profile.**

**…****despite any rumors you may hear, I did NOT spend most of my morning/early-afternoon watching Dallon Weeke's vines and laughing like crazy. Nor was I contemplating the fact that the media never talks about the happy marriages…**

**As always, read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #12: Respect

"Something is wrong, Val," Tucker frowns at his screen, "I haven't gotten a single e-mail from Danny. He and Sam were going to take pictures for me. He promised to show me that they were relaxing and enjoying themselves."

"If they're enjoying themselves, they probably forgot," she assuages.

"No," he growls, "Sam doesn't forget to take pictures, and Danny wouldn't forget to send them. Something's up, Val."

"Look, they're going to be fine, and when they get back and you've been panicking, you'll look like an idiot," she snorts, "Calm down, Babe, and let them enjoy their vacation."

"…do you think they've gotten some time alone?" he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"…have they…?"

"…I think Danny _probably_ would have told me."

"Why not? His parents are gone a lot…"

"He's been worried that the whole 'half-ghost' thing might affect him somehow," he shrugs, "I think he wants he and Sam to be a _really_ confirmed deal before…risking anything."

"Right…" she coughs, "Well, either way, I'm sure they're enjoying themselves in other ways."

"Yeah," he replies, still unsure. He turns back to his computer screen – finally recovered from Technus' attack – and scans through the e-mails. More college offers, a few girls posting flirtatious comments on his Vine account despite knowing that he's in a relationship…

"That reminds me," Val comments, leaning over his shoulders, "You still haven't uploaded anything new for 'Mayor Tuck Thursdays'."

"It's my birthday," he snorts, "I think I have the right to take a post off."

"I was wondering if you'd forgotten," she smirks, "seeing as you're working just as hard today as you do every day…"

"Mayors don't get to take birthdays off. The internet, however, will survive without me," an explosion can be heard in the distance, and he sighs, "The town, on the other hand…"

"I'll go check it out, Babe," she pats his shoulder, "Call you if it isn't something I can sort out myself."

"Got it," he nods, pressing a button that opens a window and turning back to his paperwork.

She leaps into the air, feeling her suit snap into existence around her. She rockets away, towards the pillar of smoke. She won't tell Tucker, but she agrees that _something_ is unusual. They may have grown closer together, being a couple now, but Tucker is still part of their group. It's not supposed to be just 'Danny and Sam'…the group isn't complete without Tucker.

The group of friends is simultaneously more cohesive and yet more distant than ever. That's the nature of a group that's expanded to have _four_ people. Danny and Sam are one half, she and Tuck are another. They aren't together all the time anymore, often heading out for work or dates. In a way, it's how they're closer than ever; they don't _need_ to spend all of their time together to prove that they're friends.

It's the nature of the world. Best friends grow up, and each head somewhere to accomplish their dreams. Maybe at different colleges, or different jobs, but it doesn't lessen their friendship.

Maddie Fenton stands at the edge of a small crater, looking up only as Valerie alights beside her.

"…a little concrete and spackle…" she mutters.

"Let's just hope we won't have to repair the entire town before Danny gets back," Valerie sighs, "What happened, anyway?" she glances around, her eyes locking on skid marks that appear not only on the road, but on the brick walls of surrounding buildings as well.

"Johnny Thirteen was just buying some flowers for his girlfriend," Maddie snorts, "The GIW went after him."

"I hope those government fools are willing to reimburse me for my shop!" the elderly shopkeeper glares at the interior of her shop, flowers and broken glass scattered around.

"Johnny was just…buying flowers?" Val inquires.

"Yes," she sniffs, "He parked outside like a perfect gentleman – left his shadow out there too – and asked for a bouquet that says 'I'm sorry and I promise I love you more than anyone', if I recall his words right. Then those _idiots_ shoot through my window, send him crashing into my display case, and then he summons his shadow to protect himself as he gets to his bike and takes off."

"You were going to sell flowers to a ghost?" Maddie blinks.

"Hey, he has money!" she retorts, "What do I care if he has a pulse or not?"

"They have love lives too," Val reminds quietly, earning a sigh and nod from the scientist.

"Anyway, I want them to reimburse me for my property," the owner growls, "Think you can handle that, Huntress?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to them, and then bring them to Tu-the mayor if I have to. Remember to file a formal complaint as well."

"Of course," the older woman nods, stomping into her wrecked store, "just after I get my shop as safe as possible. With all these broken windows, I can't go leaving anything valuable here anymore!"

Val turns away, taking Maddie's arm, "Well, Tuck's going to be _livid_…" she turns back to the owner, "Hey…can I ask for a bouquet right now? Nothing special, just use whatever you have left. I'll pay you."

"What do you want to say?"

"Um…" she blushes behind her visor, "Just 'Happy Birthday'?" _And I'm sorry that ghost hunters are ruining it?_

"Sure. Bring those agents back to me, and you can have it for free. I want them to help me clean up, too!"

"Well, Mrs. Fenton, if you can handle things here…"

"Go get 'em…and tell Tuck I'll be bringing a cake over later. It's been chilling in my fridge all morning."

"Good, he needs a little birthday cheer. He's worrying about the convention, about the town, about Danny and Sam, heck, he worries about the future of ghosts as possible citizens of our nation!…he needs to think about himself every once in a while."

"What is it about our boys?" Maddie shakes her head with a sad smile, "The weight of the world on their shoulders before they even graduate high school."

"They're heroes," Val shrugs, summoning her sled again.

-BREAK-

"Did you not listen to the presentation _at all_?!" Tucker roars at the two white-clad agents. Their white suits are scuffed and stained, but he's activated a jammer in his office to prevent any requisitions for bleach.

"We are elite agents of the government, and we're demanding that we be allowed to return to our room to begin on the required forms and reports."

"I am not in the mood for your bureaucratic _bull_!" he retorts, slamming a hand on his desk, "And unless I want you to, you won't be contacting _anyone_!"

"In all due respect, kid–"

"_Respect?!_ I'm _the mayor!_ _Not_ a 'kid'!" he snarls, fisting one hand into a white coat, "And I can guarantee that I know more about ghosts than your _entire division_, so when I tell you – and every other ghost hunter here – what _not_ to do, I expect to be listened to, especially if I have your _respect_!"

"You are not authorized to put your hands on my suit–"

"I've tried being diplomatic, but _apparently_, it isn't working! So forgive me if I feel the need to get in your face!" he releases the coat with a small shove.

"We have been nothing but cooperative in helping Amity with its ghost problem–"

"_Nobody called you here_!" Tucker bellows, "Section Forty-Eight 'B' of your department's handbook states that agents cannot act without a direct request from the local police department, unless given direct permission by the president. You are _out of your jurisdiction_, and you're _destroying my town!_"

"A _ghost_ was wandering around freely–"

"He was _buying flowers for his girlfriend!_" The pencil in his hand snaps, "_You_ are being more of a menace than any ghost in town at the moment! You have no sign of malice – nothing! – to justify the destruction of private property!"

"If you will allow us to return to our rooms, we can requisition the required forms to inquire as to a payment to the woman whose shop was damaged."

"As well as some bleach," the other agent adds.

"Not until you help her sweep up the shattered glass and tiles," Tucker hisses, "As for Mrs. Marigold – the owner – she better get more than _an inquiry_ in regards to compensation. I also expect a written apology from you and maybe even your superiors for your conduct," he turns to Val, who waits on the chaise, her face still obscured by her visor, "Take them back to the scene, and make sure all of their weapons are confiscated and placed in custody of the Fentons."

"Got it, _Boss_," he can hear her smirk.

"You don't have the right to–"

"You have proven yourselves incapable of using your weapons safely," Tucker growls, glaring into the shorter agent's eyes, "It's not my right, it's my _duty_ to have them taken from you. Have fun, and hope the _furious_ shop owner doesn't club you to death with her broom," he drops himself promptly back into his chair, pressing the button for the window again. Valerie cackles as she sweeps the two agents away, screaming in fear. Moments later, a small red light blinks on his phone.

He presses the button, "Yeah, Val?"

_"__That was really hot,"_ she purrs, unheard by her passengers, _"Nice way to take control. But then again, you're _always_ in control, aren't you, Babe?"_

"Almost," he grins back, "I almost lost it when you called me 'Boss', though."

_"__Mmm…"_ she hums, _"I'll have to keep that in mind. See you at seven, _Boss_."_


	13. Haunting Words

**A/N: I'M ALIVE! I plan to update (hopefully) tomorrow (Monday), Tues, Wed, and MAYBE Friday.**

**Okay, so on the location of Amity Park…by dictates of the show…**

**It's not too far from Wisconsin (Bitter Reunions), borders enough water to have a legitimate port for trade (Pirate Radio), is closer to Florida (They started in Florida in "Reality Trip") than California, there are mountains (Girls' Night Out), but many hints about beaches and palm trees.**

**Overall, the geography seems kind of screwed…but I'm doing my best here. David Kaufman, voice actor for Danny Fenton, estimated it was in Minnesota, so I'm going with that. It was either that or I was putting it in Ohio. I'll trust the guy on the inside…**

**As always: Read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #13: Haunting Words

Kovich glares down at the tiny monitor in his hand, the green screen casting his features harshly, emphasizing the scar on his right cheek. His eyes dart around, and he keeps a hand on his ecto-gun.

"The ghost is on board," he growls quietly, "probably the one from last night."

"Makes sense," Burgess replies, "If he's haunting someone on board…"

Kovich grunts noncommittally.

_Phantom…surely they don't mean _that_ Phantom…right?_ He wonders, _the one from the disasteroid incident…he haunts that city in Minnesota, doesn't he? Why would he…?_ He quickly summons the passenger manifest, not scanning the names, but rather their actual addresses, as they'd filled out in the paperwork.

"Amity Park…" he whispers, his eyes locking on the names, "Ida, Jeremy, Pamela, and Samantha Manson, as well as Daniel…" he frowns, "Daniel Fenton."

"Fenton?" Burgess halts, "The people who made the ghost tech we're carrying?"

"We have a few DALV weapons as well," Kovich replies, still scanning the names over and over, "before Masters revealed he was a ghost himself and was left in outer space…"

"What are you thinking, Captain?"

"…how much do you think we could sell the son of the world's top ghosts specialists for?"

"Depends on how much he knows," the Somalian shrugs, "if he knows his parents' tech well and what they're currently researching…it's his info that makes him valuable. He's not worth much by himself…"

"I don't know…" Kovich smirks, pulling up a picture , "I bet we could sell him to _someone_ for a decent price. I happen to know a fine lady who likes black hair and blue eyes…she runs entire establishments on them."

"What if he's unruly?"

"She has some fighters in the local rings," the Russian shrugs, "But let's focus on getting all of our passengers first, shall we?" His eyes lock on again to the green blip on his screen, showing a ghost hovering far above in a three-dimensional model. It seems to watch for a moment – at least, that's what he _presumes_ it's doing – before landing at the edge of his range and vanishing suddenly.

"Did it phase through the deck?" Burgess questions, leaning over the device.

"I guess so," Kovich replies, "Tell Ramirez that we've changed our plans. I don't think there's anyone up here. We're inspecting the lower decks," he pulls his quarter from his chest pocket, pressing it briefly to his lips. It's been more than twenty-five years since he'd acquired the small token, at an American military base in Brazil. It had saved his life.

He'd stolen it from his guard, after crushing the young man's trachea. The young soldier hadn't made a sound. He always flipped that quarter, creating silly bets with his brothers-in-arms over it. Kovich had watched the silver coin leap into the air, the sun glinting on its polished surface. He watched it for what felt like days. One day, while most of the other guards were absent, acting as security for some large event, the guard failed to catch the coin, and it rolled to the edge of the cell.

He didn't notice Kovich slipping from his bed until the Russian's large hands were wrapped around his throat. He couldn't call out, the only noise being the scraping of his boots against the concrete floor. Even that didn't last long. He took the coin with him, using it to navigate the maze of corridors. Somehow, he made it out safely.

He rubs the well-worn coin with a thumb and flips into the air.

"Heads, huh?" Burg smirks.

"Yeah," he grins, eyes lit with a cold light, "Let's go where My Lady dictates."

-BREAK-

_::I can't use my ghost powers to sneak up on them, Sam,::_ Danny frowns, _::They have portable radars. They must be _really_ paranoid about ghosts.::_

_::With good reason,::_ she replies, _::You were sensing them all night, weren't you?::_

_::They're different somehow from the ones in Amity,::_ he ponders, _::More…::_

_::Ghostly?::_ she supplies.

_::Yeah. They were more what people think ghosts are like, re-enacting the moments they died or something like that…the ghosts in Amity Park and the Ghost Zone…they aren't like that. They live lives of their own, really, they don't…::_ he takes a deep breath, _::They don't remain in the one they lost. Not like that. Why…why do you think they're so different?::_

_::I don't know,::_ she replies softly, _::But now isn't the time…::_

_::No,::_ he agrees, _::It isn't.::_

"Daniel?"

"Call me 'Danny', Mr. Manson," he corrects, "The Froot-Loop called me 'Daniel.'"

"The 'Froot-Loop'?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Vlad Masters," he snorts, "a seriously crazed-up Froot-Loop who wanted to kill my dad and marry my mom? Freed Vortex in order to make Amity think he could deliver rain during a drought? Unsealed Pariah Dark and then used two sixteen-year-olds to clean up the mess? Yeah," he grimaces, noticing Jeremy's shocked expression, "I don't like being called 'Daniel'."

"…and you elected _that_ for mayor?" Al hisses.

"To be fair, you couldn't call that an election," Danny replies dryly, "He overshadowed everybody and made them tick the boxes. It's how he got _everything_. Vlad Masters didn't earn a single penny of his own – he probably _could_ have, mind you. I hate to say anything good about him, but he was an excellent scientist. He knew everything from mechanical engineering and circuitry to biogenetics and paranormal science. He could've been well-off in his own right if he hadn't let his obsession destroy him."

"How could a ghost overshadow _everyone_?!"

"Duplication," he answers simply, "It was Vlad's specialty. Then again; he had a long time to practice, didn't he? He split himself enough times to overshadow each person going into a booth and then it was all a landslide from there."

"So ghosts can just…copy themselves?" Al gasps, his face pale.

"First of all, not all of them have that ability. Secondly, each clone reduces their power. If you clone yourself once, each clone is half as strong. If you make a third clone, each one has a third of your total power, and so on," he leans against the metal corridor, "So we won't ever be invaded by an army of clones, if that's what you're worried about."

"Two of the same ghost with half the usual power though…" Jeremy whispers, his eyes locked meaningfully with the teen, "…if they're powerful, being half power isn't going to matter much."

"If you're talking about Phantom, he has a hard time with duplication. He can only do it in a pinch. It…it doesn't happen often, much to his frustration," he growls, glaring down the hallway, "He's been trying to learn it for years now."

"Isn't he strong enough?" he asks gently.

"He hopes so," Danny whispers in return, "But he's scared. Afraid that someday, someone stronger will appear. He knows his power hasn't reached its limit, so why wouldn't he try to reach it?"

"How does he know that?" Jeremy takes a step forward, "How can he know that he can…?"

Fear flashes through the young man's eyes, and he turns away, "…it's a long story, and I don't feel like sharing it anyway."

_You don't get it do you? I'm still here. I still exist. That means you still turn into me._


	14. Nightmares

Chapter #14: Nightmares

_The smoke stings his eyes as he sweeps the crumbled, ruined buildings. Fear and guilt squeeze his heart, and he falls to the ground, unable to fly. Screams reach his ears, along with a menacing laugh._

_He looks to the sky, where a single figure hovers. He smiles._

_"__Hello…me," he rumbles._

_"__I…" he manages to cough, "…I am _not_ you…"_

_"__Oh, but you _will_ be," he smiles_, _"It's not very hard, you know. For instance…"_ _his hand glows, and a familiar yelp sounds as a single figure is pulled from the rubble, struggling against a ghostly glow._

_"__Tucker!" Danny shouts._

_"__Danny!" Tucker replies, "Don't…!"_

_"__One down," his future self almost sings, clenching his fist. Tucker convulses, and the sickening snap overcomes all other noise. His limp form falls to the ground, eyes dull and unseeing._

_Danny screams, trying to scramble closer to his friend._

_"__And another on the way," he snickers, lifting another body from the ruins._

_Danny's breathing stops, "Sam," he rasps weakly, "don't touch her!"_

_"__Oh, but I already have," he grins._

_"__Danny, don't listen to him!" Sam shouts, "Just–" her voice cuts off as a clawed hand wraps around her throat, and a forked tongue dances across her cheek._

_He feels burning rage pool in his stomach, "Get your hands off of her!" He can't move, still pinned to the ground by some unknown force._

_"__She tastes good," he purrs, "If I still had my humanity, I'd probably crave this. But right now…"_

::Danny, you have to wake up.::

_"__Right now, I'm just curious…"_

::Danny, _please_, it isn't real!::

_"…__what would it do to you…"_

::Danny? Danny! I'm okay, this is all just a dream!::

_"…__if I took her right here…"_

::Danny, you're okay. I'm okay too!::

_"…__and made you watch it all?"_

_His heart thuds in his ears, and his vision goes red, "Don't you _dare_!" he roars._

::Danny, it's a dream! Wake up!::

_Everything begins to vanish around him, it all fades to black. He's in the church, the church from _that_ dream, and gentle fingers stroke his hair. His head is in Sam's lap, and she stares down at him with tear-filled eyes. She's in _the_ dress, the hood of her cloak pushed all the way down, over her shoulders._

_"__It's okay, Danny," she whispers, "It was all a dream. You're okay. _I'm_ okay. Just sleep."_

_He reaches a hand up and strokes her jaw with trembling fingers, "I…" he chokes up, "I can't lose you, Sam."_

_"__You won't," she promises, "Ever. Or Tucker. If anybody is losing anyone, we'll be…" she cups his jaw, "_you're_ the one most likely to get lost, you stupid halfa."_

_"__I know," he whispers, "I'm selfish like that."_

_"__Just…get some rest."_

_His eyes slip closed, and he fades away. She looks out the window of the church, where a funeral takes place. The dream she'd been having before being pulled to Danny's._

_A black coffin, decorated with silver, is slowly lowered into the earth. Mrs. Fenton stares on numbly, arms wrapped around her husband. Jazz mirrors her, clinging to some unknown figure – her husband, presumably, but Sam can't see his face. Valerie stands dutifully aside, and, like everyone else, keeps her gaze from straying to the shape huddled by the gravestone._

_Sam watches as Tucker holds her, his eyes dry and haunted as she cries into his shoulder. He never lets himself cry in these dreams. Ever. She doesn't know why. Images flash through her mind, scenes after the funeral. Tucker calling her daily, checking on her, being at her side and pretending he doesn't notice her tears. She knows he hurts just as badly, but he won't show it. He's being strong. For her._

_She knows this nightmare like the back of her hand. She's screaming right now, screaming at Danny. Asking him how it's possible to simultaneously be the most selfless and the most selfish person she knows. Begs him to phase through the casket, laugh it off, and apologize for such a tasteless joke._

_He doesn't._

_The sky fills with ghosts, and they all land respectfully behind the circle of human mourners. Frostbite looks as though he's melted. His icy prosthetic is gone, the bone hanging limply at his side, and his fur is wet and matted. Dora and her maidens wail beside the group of yeti. Skulker is yelling furiously, held back only by his girlfriend – no, his _wife_ in this dream – whose mascara is smeared by tears. Johnny and Kitty simply hold each other in respectful silence._

_Clockwork approaches her. Though she's watching from the church windows, she knows what Clockwork is telling her._

_"__Daniel is at peace," he assuages every time, "He died to protect those he loved. He carried the world on his shoulders, Samantha. Now he's truly free. It's the only way he _could_ be. He would be carrying that burden until the day it crushed him."_

_"__Is there…nothing I could have done?" she sobs, both at the gravesite and in the church._

_"__Not without dooming the world in his stead. Stand tall," he lifts her to her feet, "You are the widow of _Danny Phantom_, _King of Ghosts_. We will all stand behind our queen in her time of need."_

Her eyes flick open, to the darkness of the room.

"Sam? Sweetie?" Pamela asks.

"What?"

"Are…" she can hear her mother's voice tremble, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she wipes away a traitorous tear, "Is it my turn on guard duty?"

"No, your grandmother is watching right now," she replies, "The pirates have been working through the floors. They…they can't be far away now."

"We'll need to get moving soon then," Sam replies, sitting up, "There are a lot of ways up and down, they can't possibly cover all of them–"

"You were crying," someone else interrupts.

"As I was saying–"

"Don't pretend I'm not here," Natalie Lacroix pouts, "You were crying and saying something about Danny."

Sam takes a deep breath, counting to ten, "It's not relevant, Barbie," she snorts.

"Look, I know you don't like me," she frowns, "But I'd like to think we can get along. We're _literally_ in the same boat here."

Sam chews her lip, "Keep your plastic mitts off of Danny."

"I can still eat the eye candy though, right?"

"No."

"Can you seriously blame me for wanting to look at _that_?! Admit it," she smirks, "if our positions were switched, you probably couldn't either. That's a bit unfair, don't you think?"

Sam clenches her jaw, "…yeah. Fine. Just look quietly."

"I can't believe you two are arguing over _him_," Pamela frowns.

"…she's joking, right?" Natalie raises an eyebrow, "She realizes that he's like…smoking hot, doesn't she? I mean, he was cute in the pool, but now he's just…" she hums.

"Sexy," Sam finishes.

Pamela coughs, "Wait, Sammykins, you haven't–surely not, right?"

"Have you?" Natalie presses, "You seem really…comfortable around each other…familiar with his body…"

"That's because I've had to patch him up for years," Sam replies quietly, "Not because we…" she groans, "…conversations I never thought I'd have and don't know how I got into…"

"So…those scars…he said they were from a car crash…"

"Ghost hunting," Sam replies, "there are a lot of supernatural villains that show up in Amity Park."

"I should've kept that restraining order on him," Pamela growls, "Something so dangerous…"

"Restraining order?"

"Not for any real reason," Sam snorts, "she just decided that she didn't like my choice in friends because Danny's parents are…eccentric…and put one on him."

"They made her wear a floral-print dress before they would remove it!" Ida shouts from beyond the door, "Talk about cruel and unusual punishment!"

"And it looked so good on you–"

"It was a superbly _ugly_ dress," Sam grimaces, "Not just because I'm a Goth. I don't think _anyone_ in their right mind would wear _that_."

"What did it look like?" Natalie presses.

"Bright, Pepto-Bismol pink, with puffy sleeves and canary-yellow flowers," She makes a face, "Awful. Absolutely awful."

"You really need to wear more color," Pamela defends.

"Black is _always_ in fashion," she retorts, "Besides, pink is _the puddle's color_."

"…puddle?" the blond questions.

"Paulina Sanchez," she spits, "The most popular girl of Casper High. Head cheerleader. Freshman year, Danny drooled after her every time she walked into sight…it ticked me off. I could step in her and not get wet."

"You sure?" Natalie asks, "You seem prone to judge pretty quickly."

"We were trapped in the ghost zone, with several groups scattered around, Danny was hurt – his mom thought he was _dead_ – and what does Paulina do? Complain about the fact that the _explosion that separated us all_ _made her hair a little frizzy._"

"Oh…"

"And not to mention, when Danny asked her to Homecoming, she only said yes because she thought she was stealing him from me. When I told her it didn't – we weren't dating at the time – she immediately left to dump him."

"Wait…she didn't _want _to date him?" Natalie holds up her hands, "I mean–"

"Danny wasn't very popular," Sam shrugs, "It was the beginning of Freshman year, and he'd only just begun hunting ghosts. He wasn't as tall as he is now, and he hadn't built up much muscle. Even when he _did_, he and Tucker kept to baggy clothes and purposely made it look like they were failing gym. He continued to let Dash shove him into lockers and pound him."

"Why?!"

"Because we didn't want anyone to know what we were doing. Beating up Dash would've tipped people off. Baggy clothes hide the muscles, but…they also help hide the bandages and gauze. No one knew what we were doing until the field trip in Junior year. We still keep it quiet, though. My parents only learned about it all the other day. Danny's parents found out during the field trip…I think Tuck's parents are still completely clueless."

"You…really live a dangerous life, don't you?" Natalie asks soberly.

"Yeah, we do," she thinks back to the dream, "And if anyone ends up dead, it'll be Danny. He's reckless like that."

His voice when his evil, future self had threatened her…

_"__Don't you _dare_!"_

It hadn't sounded like him. It was raw, burning rage, refined in hatred. It was an unfamiliar voice, but it sent shivers down her spine. She'd heard the darkness in him; perhaps that had been the goal. Perhaps that was part of the nightmare.

_The only way he can be free…_"He's the type to try and carry the world on his shoulders," she whispers, "He'll die long before he lets anyone get hurt,"_…is to die._

_But...could I survive that?_


	15. Wish

**A/N: Hello! So I know that this chapter has a little bit of a time jump – not much, but a little – on the ship, but before this, the chapter would've been a lot of…"Danny checked around the corner, and then moved back, and they waited for the pirates to vanish before they moved on, and he told Sam where they were and then they continued..." Which is tedious and I wanted to get to where things actually start happening.**

**As usual: Read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #15: Wish

"Don't you _dare!_"

Jeremy jumps, turning towards the guttural snarl. Danny sits straight up, his eyes open, but unfocused.

And they're glowing.

Red. Hot, burning red.

"…Danny?" he manages to croak, but the teen's eyes slip shut again, and he falls limply back to the bed, his breathing evening out.

They've been running around the ship, sleeping for an hour each time they can afford it. They've managed to avoid the pirates so far, but a lack of sleep has nearly gotten them caught on more than one occasion.

They're being hunted.

Danny stirs again, rubbing at his shadowed eyes, "We need to get moving again, get some food. We'll burn out at this rate," he mutters, "We'll need water too."

"How do we get there?" Al whispers, "They have men guarding the main food and water reservoirs, as well as their boat."

"I'm still trying to figure out why they're chasing us," Danny replies, "They know we're on board. Regardless of whether they have one of us on hand or not, they could still make the ransom call...so what are they up to?"

"They want a hostage to relay the message. It's not uncommon," Voss answers, "showing a hostage has more impact and acts as proof of life. To a point. Also, it keeps them from making direct contact with the authorities."

Danny nods, "Makes sense. We have to get moving again," he rises to his feet, slipping into the hallway. He waves them out a few seconds later, determining that it's safe.

They move quietly, keeping close the walls. Jeremy watches the teen's movements closely, still shocked that _this_ is Daniel Fenton.

His feet make hardly a sound as he leads them through the corridors. His eyes are calm and focused. There's no outward sign of stress at all, no fear. He's comfortable here, in this secretive warzone.

Jeremy's own heart is pounding in his ears, and he struggles to keep himself from hyperventilating. Alphonse is in a similar position. The only person even close to Danny's level of calm is Captain Voss, who moves with silent resolve.

"How can you be so calm?" he asks quietly to the Captain.

"Panic will kill us faster than those pirates," he replies softly, "Besides, Fenton seems to know what he's doing."

"Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" he mutters.

Danny stops at a corner, holding his hand up to halt the others trailing behind him. He glances around the edge slowly, pulling away sharply with a soft curse, "They're close. It seems they're learning the game."

"Game?!" Al growls.

"It's how they're looking at it," Danny retorts, "They've been poking and prodding for a while to see how we react. Now they won't be chasing us, but trying to predict us," his upper lip curls into a snarl, "this is where our real problems begin."

"So what do we do now?"

Danny's fingers tap softly on the wall as he thinks, and Jeremy already dreads his response.

"I'll go run as a decoy. When I lure them away, run down this hallway and turn right. There's an elevator shaft. Get inside and climb up."

"What about you?" Jeremy inquires, knowing the answer.

"I…" he rubs at the back of his neck, "I'll meet up with you when I can."

"…if you can," Captain Voss adds.

"If I can," Danny confesses, "Yeah."

"I can't let you do that," the sailor frowns, "I'll run as the decoy–"

"No," Danny hisses, "You'll have a lesser chance of surviving than I would. Trust me. Especially with that old leg injury of yours."

"How did you–"

"I pay attention," the halfa snorts, "Be careful, all of you."

"Danny, I–"

"_No one else_ is taking my place," he growls, "Now, remember. Down this hall and to the right," shadows are appearing on the wall beyond the corner, and footsteps can now be heard on the floor.

"Go," Danny whispers, stepping around the corner.

Red lights dance on his chest, and he lunges forward, a leg whipping out to catch on pirate in the head, slamming him against the wall. He dances to the side, a bullet missing his shoulder by no more than three inches.

Captain Voss dashes forward, followed by Jeremy and Alphonse. They sprint as quickly as they can, lunging to the right the moment they can. Their lungs burn, but they force the door open, climbing into the empty shaft. The gunshots still ring in their ears.

Danny, back in the hallway, watches in horror as a bullet tears through his coat pocket, and a shining object bounces across the floor. He lunges for _it_, allowing himself to turn intangible now that the others are gone. The bullets sail harmlessly through his body, earning curses from the pirates. His hand reaches desperately for _it_, but a shock courses through him. He falls to the ground, convulsing minutely.

He _knows_ this feeling. Even through his blurry vision, he reaches for _it_, only for a foot to stamp down on his hand. He yelps, his body still trembling from the shock. Fingers curl into his hair, pulling his head upward until brown eyes meet his own.

The Hispanic young man can't be much older than he, with wavy black locks and a scar cutting across his left cheek, accented by a wide grin.

"Found you!"

-BREAK-

"Happy Birthday, Tucker!"

"Thanks," he smiles, "But seriously…_two_ cakes?"

"One from each half of your family," his mother, Angela, jests.

"You _do_ nearly live at our house," Maddie adds.

"You've been working hard, Babe," Valerie laughs, "I think you deserve two, don't you?"

He wraps an arm around her, pulling her in for a quick peck on the cheek, "At least!"

"Make a wish!" his father, Maurice, shouts.

He thinks for a moment before blowing out the candles, nine on each cake.

"What did you wish for?" Valerie whispers into his ear amidst the cheers.

"That's a secret," he smirks in reply.

She pouts.

"So, did Mrs. Marigold beat the GIW within an inch of their lives?"

"I managed to remind her that doing so would render them incapable of helping her clean up," she snickers, "Oh, and Johnny Thirteen showed up, too. She gave him some of the flowers she still had."

"Think he made up with Kitty?"

"Maybe. Twenty bucks says he's back on his couch within a week."

"I'm not taking that bet," he winces.

"It feels unusual for Danny and Sam to be absent," Angela comments, slicing the cakes, "I hope they're having fun."

"Probably not, with that…" Maddie Fenton stifles herself with her drink, "…those two…!"

"They are a bit…stiff," Maurice acknowledges.

"I can't believe Danny-O didn't want to stick around for the ghost hunting convention!" Jack pouts, "I mean–"

Maddie shoves a piece of fudge in his mouth, "Honey, remember how all of our equipment reacts to him? He could get shot!" she laughs nervously, "Danny's been in contact with ectoplasm a little more than recommended since a certain accident in the lab while we were out, so…" she explains hurriedly, "Nothing too large, but sensitive equipment sometimes picks up the traces of it."

"Why aren't the two of you contaminated?" Angela asks, worried.

"We wear our hazmat suits," Maddie replies, "with the hoods up."

"Yeah," Tucker grimaces, "Danny didn't have the hood pulled up…not sure it would have helped though…"

"Tucker, were you there?!" his mother gasps.

"Yeah…" he shifts nervously, "But hey, Danny's fine, he just sets off ghost tech sometimes."

"It hasn't caused any negative side effects," Maddie assures, "It's been four years."

"He was a little woozy," Tucker shrugs, "and having like…aftershocks…but that was probably from getting electrocuted half-to-death, not the ectoplasm."

"Electrocuted?" Maurice gasps.

"What _exactly_ happened?" Angela asks.

"Long story short? Mr. and Mrs. Fenton were gone. Ghost portal wasn't working, Sam convinced Danny to go inside, he listened. He tripped, hit something on the wall, and there was a bright flash and a scream. He stumbled out of the portal, passed out, and we carried him upstairs to his room," he takes a drink.

"We didn't learn about this until that field trip," Maddie frowns, "They told us that the portal had turned on while they were down in the lab. We figured it had just taken time to form or something."

"You're lucky he lived," Angela whispers.

"It's become a joke to us now," Tucker laughs and shrugs, "Any time Sam swears she'll kill Danny – usually because he worried her – we correct her and remind her that she'll _finish_ killing him. She's the one who talked him into the portal, after all."

"That…"

"You know what? It's my birthday, and I don't want to spend it remembering the time my best friend almost died. He wouldn't want me to either, so," he raises his cup of soda, "To Sam and Danny – may they be having fun – and to me, for becoming a legal adult!"

_I wish I could stop worrying._


	16. Ransom

**A/N: So…uh…hi…what?! Okay, okay, I know…I've been slowing down on my updates, and if we're honest, I probably had time to write a chapter yesterday, but I'd finished standing on my feet for 8 hours. Not only that, but it's General Conference weekend, which is like Superbowl Sunday to members of my church, but a little more quiet, and without the alcohol. :D**

**Also…reviews have been slowing down. That's not helping either. Y'all know the deal as per my explanation in Journey of Secrets (Which, if you haven't read yet and you're all the way over here in Ch. 16 of the sequel, you really SHOULD go read it…like…now…). More reviews = love = more motivation to write. Lots of reviews help me crawl through writers' block. :D Keep them coming, and drag in any fellow fans of the show. Besides, aren't fanfics more fun when you have someone to fangirl/boy over them with?**

Chapter #16: Ransom

_::Why are they so determined to catch us? We can't leave the ship, so why haven't they made the call for ransom?!:: _Danny shouts, frustrated, in her mind.

_::I don't know,::_ she replies sincerely.

_::They're getting closer. They've moved from following us to predicting us,::_ he growls, _::Well-equipped hunters…it's like dealing with a pack of Skulkers!::_

_::And he's not hunting only you.::_

_::Nope,::_ she can hear him sigh in frustration. Something flicks at the corner of his mind, and she can briefly see a black-clothed group from around a corner. Danny moves back behind the wall, allowing her to see the other men with him.

She releases a breath of relief – her father, though a little more disheveled than usual, and with more stubble than she's ever seen gracing his jaw, is unharmed. She turns to her group, also a little more ragged than ever – except for her grandmother, who has had to be carried by other members. Thankfully, she's small and light, and Sam is stronger than she looks.

Danny then pictures the hallway, and the elevator, followed by the shaft.

_::That's your plan?::_

_::Part of it,::_ he replies, the same flicker from earlier held back firmly by his thoughts.

_::Danny…what are you planning?::_

_::Planning?::_ There it is again.

"No," the words fall softly from her lips, "Danny, you'd better not be thinking what I think you're–"

The wall slams firmly between their minds, and she screeches to a halt, Natalie stumbling into her back, "Sam?!"

"Daniel James Fenton, if you're about to–!" she pounds at the wall between their minds, a small headache growing at her temples, "I'm going to _kill_ you!..._finish_ killing you!"

"Sam, what are you–?"

Sam swivels an amethyst gaze upon her, "I'll explain later – once we get somewhere safe," she barely manages to suppress the tremble in her voice, "But if I'm right, next time we contact my dad and the others…Danny may not be with them."

"Sammy, why wouldn't he…?" Pamela inquires.

"Because he's an idiot," she hisses, fighting back tears as the wall vanishes, followed by simple emptiness; the same emptiness she feels when he sleeps dreamlessly. Normally, it's comforting; she knows he's not fighting some nightmarish battle in his mind. Now, however…it scares her, "he's a selflessly-selfish idiot with a hero complex!"

They slip into an elevator shaft, climbing down until they can crawl onto the elevator and sit on top to rest for a few minutes.

"You know…" Natalie begins, "I've been wondering why you haven't asked to talk to Danny over the radio."

"Have you?"

"So have I," Pamela narrows her eyes, "Now that I think about it, the two of you seem awfully synchronized."

"True love," Ida sniffs.

"Danny and I are just used to working together. We know we can each handle our own, so we only need to check on people other than us."

"You seem pretty worried right now…you said you'd explain–"

"Pamela?"

They turn to the voice, revealing Jeremy Manson, as well as Al and Captain Voss.

"Jeremy!" she gasps, taking his arm as the three men craw onto the elevator. They're out of breath, probably from climbing up the shaft.

"Hey, Dad," Sam begins flatly, "Where's Danny? Use himself as a decoy?"

"We couldn't stop him, Sammy," he replies softly, "I…"

"Don't blame yourself," she snips, "He's stubborn in times like these. I think he's alive…"

"Or half-alive, as it may be?" he adds.

"When I get my hands on him, he won't be for much longer. I'll finish killing him. It'll take years, decades maybe, but I'll do it."

"I'm missing something here," Pamela frowns, "Jeremy…did you figure out…?"

"Figure out what?" Sam presses, guarded.

"There's something you're not telling us – or maybe it's just _me _now, hm?" she snips back, sending an icy glare towards her husband, "I've sensed it for a while, especially since the storm. I know you've been hunting ghosts with those two _friends_ of yours, but there's something you're not telling me. Something _you_," she turns on Jeremy, "have elected not to divulge!"

"It's not my place to tell," he whispers, grasping her shoulders, "I'm sorry, Pamela."

"Tell me _now_ then!" she hisses, "I need to know what is going on with _our_ child!"

He glances at Sam, his blue eyes pleading.

"I'm sure everyone here will know by the end of this little trip anyway," she sighs, "But first, I want all of you here to promise that you'll _keep your mouths shut_."

"You have my word as Captain," Voss nods.

"Lips are sealed, right, Grandpa?" Natalie confirms with Al, who nods.

"Always have been!" Ida snorts.

"...always…?" Sam begins.

"Yes, Bubleh, _always_," she smiles, "though, Jeremy, I'm almost disappointed that it took you so long to figure it out."

"Mother!" he gasps, "I felt like an idiot the moment I made the connection. You are _not_ helping!" he pauses, "Though…how, specifically, did it come to _your_ understanding?"

"He walks into our home all the time, and then he appears on the news and papers…my eyes are _failing_ and _I_ noticed they look exactly alike!" she snorts, "You?"

"The name, mostly," he admits.

"Oh my word…" Pamela whispers, her eyes wide, "Danny Phantom. Fenton. My daughter is…" she faints, only to be caught by her husband, who lowers her slowly to the elevator beneath their feet.

"Dating a half-ghost superhero? Yeah," Sam finishes, "And if any of you tell anyone, I can rally an army of yeti in his stead and turn your life into a frozen wasteland!"

-BREAK-

He's cold. Unusually so. It takes a moment for his scrambled thoughts to recollect enough to realize why.

The dull ache, a familiar feeling he associates with the Plasmius Maximus, pulses along his nerves, suppressing his ghost half, shoving his cold core so far away it might as well be absent.

He spreads his thoughts outward, detecting what he can before opening his eyes. He's sitting up, for one. His shoulders feel tight – his hands are secured behind him with zip-ties. His ankles are secured to the legs of his metal chair the same way. Soft whispers reverberate off of metal walls.

_::Danny?::_

"You're awake," one of them – the captain, based on the voice – comments, "isn't it a bit rude to pretend otherwise?"

Danny opens his eyes, turning the ice-blue orbs on his captor, "Rude?! I'm _tied to a chair_!"

_::I'm okay…mostly.::_

_::Mostly?::_

"Now, now, young Fenton–"

"Funny, I don't think I introduced myself," he interrupts.

"Ah, yes, introductions are in order," his captor smirks, "I am Yulian Kovich, captain of this crew. The solemn Somalian over there is Burgess, the nervous American is Ross, and…well, you've already met Ramirez, no?"

"Hello again," the young man from earlier waves.

"So, there you have us. The rest here…they are faceless and nameless. Do not concern yourself with them," Kovich dismisses.

"Faceless and nameless," Danny snorts, "How…kind."

_::My powers are shorted out. They have DALV tech.::_

"I agree," Kovich laughs, "If one of us is ever caught, no one will be able to identify the others."

_::How did they know to use…?!::_

_::Beats me. I imagine I'll figure it out. But listen; Kovich, Ross, Burgess, and Ramirez are the ringleaders. They're all here, wherever I am. If you're going to move, move now.::_

_::I _will_ find you, Ghost-boy. Also…well…::_ he senses her shifting uncomfortably, _::I…uh…we met up with your group in the shaft…and…everyone knows now.::_

_::Knows?::_

She laughs_, ::It seems that my grandma knew the whole time, about Phantom. She was reading the paper one day when you walked in the door and she realized that you looked almost identical.::_

_::So…_everyone_ knows?::_

"What are you spacing out for?" Ramirez asks, kicking his chair.

"I'm just tired," Danny shrugs, "the Plasmius Maximus does that to me."

_::Yeah. Mom took it better than I thought she would. She fainted, but there's no sign she's in mortal peril.::_

_::That…that _is_ a plus,::_ he agrees.

"Speaking of which, you really are a very interesting person," he snickers, "Or are you a person at all?"

"…you lost me," Danny snorts.

_::…I might be in trouble here, Sam…::_

"Did we?" Kovich smiles, before turning to one of his subordinates, "bring her in."

The metal door swings open, revealing a glowing chain. At the end is a young woman with dripping wet hair and blank eyes.

"Meet a local ghost," Kovich waves, "We call her Rose. After the movie, you see."

"Charming," he retorts, "And why is she here? You think she'll scare me? You know who I am. I'm sure you know where I'm from and what my parents do. I live in _Amity Park_. Ghosts are not a big deal to me."

_"__I want to go outside,"_ she whispers, her dull eyes focused on the floor, _"I want to see the stars."_

"That makes two of us," Danny mutters, unheard.

"We'll let you go if you just answer a few questions," Kovich smiles assuringly, "Who froze our ship the other night?"

She becomes paler, her eyes widening, but she keeps them focused on the floor, _"Phantom…"_ she whispers.

"Is this 'Phantom' the one from Amity Park?"

_"__Y…yes," _she nods.

"Why are you all afraid of him?"

_"__He is very strong. He sealed away King Pariah Dark, and the Observants fear him because they know their own grip is weak. Many already follow him, including the yeti-warriors of the Far Frozen. Thankfully, despite his power, he seems to be kinder than the other halfa."_

"Other 'halfa?'"

"Do–" Burgess pulls a gag over Danny's mouth.

_"__Plasmius was cruel and would not hesitate to endanger both realms for his own gain. Phantom seems more prone to help them coexist."_

"What is a halfa?" he presses, causing her to flinch.

_"__Half a human, half a ghost,"_ she answers quietly, _"Halfa."_

"Is he in here?" He whispers.

She raises her head slowly, her form trembling as her dead eyes meet his icy orbs.

_"__N-n-n…"_

"He's been depowered. He won't hurt you. Besides," he smiles, "You said he's kinder than Plasmius, right? Surely he'll understand that you were threatened," he glances at the ecto-weapons in his soldiers' hands.

She glances uncertainly between them, and Danny relaxes, allowing a small nod.

_"__Yes, he is in this room."_

"Tied to the chair?"

_"__Yes,"_ she sniffs, _"That is the human form of the King-Sealer."_

"Take her away," he orders, and they lead her back through the door, which slams shut behind them. Kovich moves back to his seat, "So…Fenton…or should I call you Phantom?...you are now on the same page?"

"…why haven't you called in the ransom yet?" he asks.

"Well," the captain kicks back, "That was certainly the plan."

"He changed it. He does that a lot," Burgess snorts dryly.

"For the better," Ramirez grins, "This is so much more fun, don't you think, Ross?"

The blond shifts, his haunted blue eyes darting around, "Yeah…I was hoping for an easy payday."

"Well, _this_ should get you good money," the young man grins, fishing around in a pocket and removing _it._ Danny immediately slams a wall down between he and Sam.

"Give that back!" He yelps, lunging forward, but to no avail.

"Oh, that's right," he hisses with a grin, "You were gunning for this when I got you, weren't you?" he twirls it in his fingers, "It's very nice. How'd a kid like you afford this? Do heroes get paid this well?"

"No, we don't get paid at all," Danny hisses, "That's chore and odd-jobs money from the past four years right there!"

"Let me see that, Ramirez," Kovich holds out his hand, "I didn't know about this," he holds _it_ to his eyes, inspecting it carefully.

The small, black ring, with silver entwined around the band in a thorn pattern, leading to an inset rose carved from amethyst, and surrounded by emerald leaves, is held delicately between his fingers.

"How much did this cost you?" he asks.

"Because I'd tell _pirates,_" Danny snorts.

"Is it for that Manson girl?"

Danny's jaw clenches.

"Burgess, bring up her photo on the passenger manifest," he orders, "I want to see the type of girl heroes like."

Burgess scrolls through until he finds her name, tapping on it to pull the picture to the screen.

"So she's…what's the word…Ross?"

"Goth," he finishes, "The word is 'Goth'."

"I wasn't expecting that," Ramirez whistles, "I was thinking she'd be a red-head, like all those other chicks from comic books."

"Purple eyes, hm?" Kovich smirks, "Those are on the rare side. I bet she'd sell well, don't you?"

The words slam into him, and he feels as though the world has screeched to a halt, "She'd _what_?!"

The captain smirks, "So will you. Maybe the client I have in mind will be willing to break from her preference and buy you both?" He turns from the screen with Sam's photo, "A young man with black hair, blue eyes, who knows Fenton ghost tech? A half-ghost, no less? A hero? _You_ are worth a fortune _alone_! But pair you with your Goth, purple-eyed girlfriend to hold you under control, and then add her blond-haired, blue-eyed father – did you know that that hair and eye combination sells the best? He may be on the older side, but I'm sure _someone_ will have a use for him and his wife. Ida and Lacroix are only useful for ransom, but his granddaughter is bound to sell!" he grins widely, "We'll earn a _fortune_!"

"We have to pay back our sponsor and add thirty percent of our earnings," Burgess reminds.

Kovich pulls his coin from a pocket, "A small fortune, then, but still a fortune."

"_You_," Danny snarls, "Don't you even _dare_ lay a hand on her!"

Kovich watches as green swirls in those eyes, glowing beneath the charcoal bangs. He flips the coin in the air, _Dare or Not?_ He wonders.

He catches it, inspecting the coin in his hand, "Oh, I think I _will_ dare, Phantom. But first, you're going to tell us everything you know about ghosts. I mean _everything_."


	17. Enough Secrets

**A/N: So yay! Chapter 17! Back with Danny next time, and probably some Val and Tuck too! :D Also, to those still confused about the pirates and why they want Danny: remember that forum I made? The one I posted the link to on my profile? Yes, that one. Remember, I've explained several things. I recently posted a topic titled "Ghosts and The World." Trust me, my Q&A forum will be SO helpful to you. Sometimes I don't reveal something because it'd be spoileriffic…other times, however, I don't because there's no where it'd seem to fit and not be too exposition-y. Besides, Sam and Danny have no way to find out EXACTLY, DOWN TO THE LETTER how their telepathy came about. So remember: I have a forum! Don't be afraid to ask or comment!**

**Hopefully, I'll update tomorrow too, before I head off to work. :D I promise nothing. I also want to update The Funeral Singer soon…I give it so much less love…but it deserves some. :)**

Chapter #17: Enough Secrets

"Phantom," Pamela hisses, "My daughter is dating a _ghost_."

"Half-ghost," Sam corrects testily, "Danny's _half_ ghost."

"How can someone be _half_ dead?!" she snaps.

"I don't know!" Sam retorts, "But it's possible! It's not like Danny's the only person to ever become so!"

"Oh, like Vlad Masters – Plasmius?! Yes, that's wonderful, he's like that psycho! As though his _parents_ weren't bad enough!"

"Don't you _dare_ compare him to _Plasmius_! Do you have _any idea_ the things he did to Danny? The times Danny had to stop him from killing Mr. Fenton? The torture he was forced to suffer through at Vlad's hands?!"

"He would've been fine if his parents had been _normal_," she scoffs, "I'm sure it's _their_ fault their son is a freak."

"No!" Sam roars, "It's _my fault_!"

Pamela falls silent, "…_your_ fault?"

"I told you that it was my fault Danny started hunting ghosts," she blinks back her frustrated tears, "If it weren't for me, Danny would've never gone into the broken portal. He never would have tripped – and-and-and…" she swallows, "He would've never been hurt. His scream…I'll never forget it. He was so…" she sniffs, "…scared when he woke up. When he saw himself – Phantom – in his mirror…he…he was terrified."

"Sammy…"

"We live in fear _every day_ that someone will find out, and the Guys in White will show up to…" she hugs herself, "I have nightmares where Danny dies, after being cut open like the frogs in biology," she clamps a hand over her mouth, "I can smell the Formaldehyde. It makes me feel sick. I scream, cry…ask them how they could do something so…so horrible to him. You know what they say? They tell me he's not human. That he has no rights. He's just a blob of ectoplasm…as though they _didn't_ just watch his _very_ human heart stop beating."

"Sam…"

"You keep telling me that Danny's 'just a boy,' and that I don't _really_ love him, I'm just a teenage girl who is being silly and restricting herself to one boy. That it's just some high-school fling that I'm using to tick you off. But you know what?! I'm pretty sure that if I didn't love Danny, I'd have been gone a _long_ time ago!" she shouts, "If I didn't love him with all my heart, I wouldn't be able to handle it! Knowing that any moment, he can go rushing off to save the day, that…that every kiss could be his last, that every day I see his face is a _gift_ that could be gone within the blink of an eye. I have to savor _every moment_ I have with Danny, because one day…" she falls to a hoarse whisper, "any day, he could…and I'll be left behind."

Pamela stares at her with wide eyes, her mouth slightly agape.

"And Danny…he just smiles that sad, understanding smile and tells me he's sorry. Worst of all, he _means_ it. He's _sorry_ that I fell in love with him, that I'm afraid to lose him. He's _sorry_ that he's a good man, that he can't just turn a blind eye to everything. He's always apologizing!" she growls, "And it ticks me off because _it's not his fault_! It's _all mine!_"

"What will you do?" Pamela asks quietly after a moment, "When he's gone?"

"That depends on when it happens," Sam replies quietly, "Tomorrow? I'd focus on getting us all to safety…and killing those stupid pirates, probably."

"After that?"

"Take every day as it comes. Fight ghosts with Tuck and the Huntress. Protect the town Danny grew up in," she shrugs, "Until the day I end up where he is."

Pamela's jaw works wordlessly, trying to think of something to say, but Sam's eyes grow distant for a moment. A small smile spreads on her worried face. Her expressions continue to change, from worried to confused, then to pensive, finally to sheepish.

She suddenly snaps back, her eyes clearing, "…Danny?" she frowns, growling to herself, "He's been doing that a lot. What's up with him?"

"Wait…what is Danny doing?" Natalie asks.

"You told me the whole 'halfa' thing," Jeremy frowns, crossing his arms, "But you keep making cryptic remarks about something else…"

"I'll explain later," Sam dismisses, "But our enemies have four main leaders. Ross, Burgess, and Ramirez, led by a man they call Kovich. They're all where Danny is, so if we want to move, we need to do it _now_," she swings onto the rungs in the shaft, "If we go up a bit, we'll be near the main dining hall. We need food and water, _bad_. If the four leaders are together, we might be able to get in."

"They had it guarded," Alphonse frowns, almost silent until now, "what's changed?"

"The security will be lower than before; they're a little more concerned about keeping an eye on Danny. They know who he is. They've depowered him for now with some DALV-tech, but I imaging they'll still be a little paranoid about him. The Plasmius Maximus originally had a three-hour limit, then a twelve…but there's no telling if that time's diminished. Danny's stronger than he used to be. Now that everyone on this ship knows the truth about him, he won't worry about using his powers…to a point."

"To a point?"

"Danny doesn't use his powers on humans. They might be our enemies, but he's afraid of hurting someone with them. He doesn't know if it'll hurt them, or how badly. He'll probably stick to physical attacks – while carefully monitoring his strength. _Any_way, I know some moves of my own. If they only have a guard up here, I can probably take him out."

"How do you know who the leaders are…and where Danny is? Is he…?"

"He was captured," she explains, "I'm not completely sure _how_, as the Plasmius Maximus doesn't have a long range…but anyway, he's shut me out."

"'Out'?"

"From his mind," she begins, taking a deep breath, "We kind of…have a psychic link…"

"Oh, so my daughter's mind is stuck in a _teenage boy's_ all the time," Pamela snips, "This just keeps getting better and _better_."

"We can shut each other out, and it's only if we direct something towards one another. Mostly. We'll occasionally sense…flickers…of something else, but we can shut one another out at any time…which he's been doing a lot, lately."

"She can't be serious," Alphonse frowns.

"We're from Amity," Jeremy shrugs as best as he can while climbing upward, "I'm not even going to question it."

"So you can just…talk to Danny no matter what the distance?" Natalie inquires.

"Yeah," Sam laughs, "It's done wonders for my nerves, actually. Somewhat. Except now I _know_ when he's going to do something stupid and I can't stop him."

"So is this one of his…ghost powers too?" Pam grimaces.

"Actually…it's more like…_my_ power, than his. It's…complicated."

"Sammy, _you're_ not a half-ghost, are you?" she gasps.

"No," she snorts, "Sometimes I wish I _was_, so I could be more help to Danny."'

"So how do you have ghost powers?"

"It's complicated."

"We have time."

"Haven't I…haven't _we_ revealed enough secrets for today?" Sam retorts, "Just shut up and climb!"

They all fall silent, until Sam slips, nearly falling. Her body shakes, and her eyes are wide, but clouded. Ida tightens her grip on her granddaughter's shoulder, glancing fearfully at the black chasm beneath her.

"Bubeleh?" she whispers.

"Danny," she replies softly, her eyes brimming with tears, "I…" she swallows thickly, her face pale, "I…I need to rest. There's a maintenance stop there," she nods to a platform, "We'll take a quick break. We all probably need one by now anyway," her voice shakes, and the group maneuvers over. Ida slides from her spot on Sam's back, while the young woman leans back into the corner, steadying her shaking hands. Her knuckles are white, her hands clenched together.

"Sam…what's wrong…is…" Natalie swallows, her own eyes wide, "…is Danny okay?"

"No," she whispers, "He'll never admit it, of course, but…he's _not_ okay."

"What…?"

Sam flinches as though hit, and her voice steadies into steel, "He's doing his best to keep the wall up, but I'm getting…flickers."

"Of what?" Jeremy presses.

Sam looks up at him, her eyes haunted, "They're torturing him."


	18. Interrogation

Chapter #18: Interrogation

Kovich watches impassively, studying the young man before him. A bruise is forming on his jaw, and another near his temple. A small trickle of blood falls from the latter, where Ross's ring had broken the skin.

"We need to be careful about his face," he says finally, "we've done enough there. We don't want to ruin our cargo, do we?"

"N-no Sir," Ross stutters.

"We don't want to break anything either," the captain adds.

"No Sir," his stutter is gone. It's been slowly disappearing within the last hour, as Kovich had predicted. He smiles inwardly to himself.

He'd found Ross living in a cardboard box in Washington, D.C., a few months ago. Corporal Jeremy Ross had been declared AWOL overseas and had scammed his way back to U.S. soil on foreign ships. He'd since been declared a deserter and dishonorably discharged. Kovich, playing a tourist while blackmailing a government official, had taken one look at those empty eyes and decided that this man would be his new crewmate. He'd taken the thin, scruffy man to a nearby pub and treated him to whatever he wanted. Ross, full, drunk, and on the edge of a psychotic break, had agreed to join him on the seas.

Being on the run, he hadn't had any counseling. Nothing to assist him in dealing with his PTSD, but Kovich had found something far better than any medicine.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He laughs, "being on this end."

Ross laughs, the harsh lighting in the room accentuating the dark circles beneath his eyes, caused by stress and a lack of sleep, "Yeah, it does, actually."

"So, what, are you guys going to add to my scars?" Danny puffs from the metal chair he's tied to, "As though I don't already have enough."

Kovich drums his fingers on the back of the chair he's straddling, "I'm sure we'll figure out something interesting," he smiles.

"This client of yours," Ross smirks, pulling a knife from the table, "She won't mind a few scars, will she?" He cuts Danny's shirt off with ease, exposing the bruises that stain his stomach, as well as the other scars that adorn his body.

"So this is what happens to a hero behind the scenes. Tell me, Danny, does anyone in Amity ever worry about you? Do they cry out when you get hurt? Do they worry if you'll get medical attention? Or…" Kovich stands, tracing his own knife lightly across his captive's arm, "…or do they just complain about the property damage and noise? Do they pitch fits about the traffic your fights cause?"

Danny's jaw clenches, and blood beads at the long, light cut across his shoulder. It's not much deeper than a paper-cut, but Kovich's sure it burns.

"How many of them still want to lock you up? How many people ignore the fact that statues of you have been risen _all over the world_?"

"I've never asked for anything," Danny replies quietly, his voice like steel, "Adulation, fame…I help people because I can. Not to be crowned as a hero."

"Is that really all?" Kovich presses, angling the knife a little deeper. Danny suppresses a yelp in a hiss of breath, his fingers clenching behind his back.

"Hey, every ghost has his obsession," he laughs shakily, "Saving people is mine."

"It's a pretty crappy obsession if it makes you look like _that_," Ross snorts, using his knife to gesture at the scars across Danny's chest.

"I don't diss _your_ hobbies," he retorts weakly.

"…you know…" the blond begins, "It takes a lot of practice to learn how to cut without severing anything vital," the tip of his knife traces up Danny's other arm, "Especially when you want to cut deeply," he applies more pressure, and the knife slices into Danny's shoulder.

"So…are you going to tell us?" Kovich asks, "Everything. Everything you possibly can about ghosts. But that's a bit too broad, isn't it?" he wipes his blade on Danny's jeans, "Let's start with the Ghost Zone. What's the story of Pariah Dark?"

"He was the King of Ghosts with a _zero_ percent approval rating," Danny quips back, "He was sealed in a casket until Plasmius set him loose."

"And _you_ shoved him back in," he finishes, "But…I'm looking for a little more detail than that, Daniel."

"Don't call me that," Danny hisses, his eyes flickering green.

Ross slams his heel into Danny's knee, earning a bitten-off cry, "He can call you whatever he wants."

"_How_ did Pariah Dark become the King?" Kovich presses you.

"I don't know," Danny coughs, "Why would I?"

"You see," the Russian circles, "I think you're lying. Now why would you do that, Daniel?"

"All I know that it was because he was the biggest, baddest ghost there was. I don't see how that's important," he shrugs trivially, "It's not like _you_ can obtain that position. You're missing the whole…you know…'ghost' part of it."

"So who is the king _now_?"

"There isn't one."

"Why not?"

"One was enough."

"So why are you called the 'Warrior-King of the Far Frozen'?"

"I'm not the ruler of the Infinite Realms," Danny snorts, "Don't plan to be, either. I still have to graduate high school, go to college, marry Sam, raise a family–" he's interrupted by a punch to his stomach.

"Answer his question," Ross growls.

"The Far Frozen is an arctic wasteland, home to a bunch of yeti. They thrive in cold climates, so when Pariah came back and dislodged them, it was a pretty big deal. I fought him and so they made a shrine to me and call me 'Great One.'"

"So…how does a human become a halfa?" Ramirez inquires from the corner, "That's what _I_ want to know."

Danny's jaw clenches, his eyes guarded.

"Answer him," Ross makes another cut across his shoulder. As the silence continues, he makes another, and another, and another.

"I do not think he plans to tell us," Kovich states finally, observing the shallow cuts down their captive's arm, and the blood dripping to the floor, "Perhaps we'll need some…_leverage_ to get that information?"

Danny, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, raises his eyes, where green flickers in anger. Kovich raises his hand in a signal to Burgess, who calmly moves closer with a stun-gun like object.

"Make sure he's fully depowered," Kovich orders, "Ramirez and I are going hunting again. Maybe he'll be more willing to talk when we get back."

"I thought I told you–" Danny cuts off, his back arching as the current flows into his body. He slumps over a few seconds later, his breath ragged. His eyes are ice-blue, without a single slicker of green.

"Have fun, Boss," Burgess yawns.

"Always," Ramirez smiles.

**A/N: Tuck and Val next time! …which MIGHT be tomorrow. MIGHT being the operative word here.**

**Have any of you watched the original cartoon of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas"? You know the face he makes when he gets his "wonderful, awful idea"? That's how I feel when I read your reviews after leaving you with a cliffhanger like last time. }:-}**

**To the reviewers I haven't seen before now: welcome, and I'm glad you're enjoying my story! ^^ It makes me happy. Side note: From now on, I will be highlighting 3 reviews from the chapter. From Ch. 17:**

**KodiakWolfe13, for embodying every fangirl everywhere. :D**

**The Talent, for your detail!**

**And Lass Luna, for joining the insanity! ;P**

**However, another mention for WhiteWinterStar for being able to wish for no torture and not be sarcastic. Sorry. It's happening. I'm a jerk to characters like that. You should see what I do to my OC's. Cyrus's life sucks…in a bittersweet way…after a point…**


	19. Something Wrong

**A/N: Hey! Sorry it's been so long. I was called into work last-minute on Sunday, I'm fighting my allergies (and the meds that make me want to just sleep…) and trying to work on a (VERY LATE) b-day present for my older brother. So yeah…**

**That's not a legitimate excuse. I'm sorry. I'm just being lazy.**

**Actually, that's a lie…I've written almost the entire first chapter of "The Crown of Fire", which is odd, seeing as I haven't even finished the book before it…**

**Anyway, we have some Val and Tucker! Yay! It's been a while. :D Review shout-outs at the end! Anyway, as always, read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #19: Something Wrong

"Something is _definitely_ wrong, Val," Tucker paces back and forth in front of his desk, his eyes locked on his feet.

"I'm beginning to agree with you," she frowns, "I can't get rid of this…itch in my head that something's wrong."

"I have a bit more than an itch," he growls, "I didn't get more than a wink of sleep last night. Something just kept screaming at me. Even when I _did_ fall asleep, I dreamt that Sam and Danny were running for their lives. In an abandoned ship. Is that weird?"

"But if something was wrong, why wouldn't Danny just go ghost and fly to help?"

"Yeah, and leave people behind? Likely," he snorts.

"…As likely as him burning the money he used to buy that ring for Sam?"

"_Less_ likely," he replies quickly, before screeching to a halt, "Wait…how did _you_ know about that?!"

"Babe," she laughs, "I can't just reveal my sources like that."

"Sam doesn't know, does she? He wanted to surprise her. He's been _desperate_ to keep it secret–" he rambles.

"She's clueless as ever," she dismisses with a wave, "I mean, I know she views it as a fact that they'll get married _someday_, but I think the proposal will blindside her…" she sits up, eyes wide, "_that's_ why you were so sure they'd send photos. You meant _engagement photos!_"

"Yeah," he confesses, sitting heavily in his chair, "but I've gotten nothing. I _know_ she wouldn't reject him – they already view it as a done deal, really. It's a mere _formality_. In truth, she probably doesn't even expect one."

"That sounds like Sam," she nods, leaning back, "Do you think he'll ask her parents?"

"He plans to ask, but only for their blessing, not their permission. I don't think Pamela Manson will _ever_ really support them, and he knows that. Jeremy will follow her lead."

She hums, her eyes drifting closed, "So how much was the ring?"

"Your _source_ didn't know?" she can hear the smirk in his voice.

"No."

"I asked, but he just grimaced and told me I didn't _want_ to know. He had to get it custom-made."

"That much, huh?"

"He wanted it to be something she could wear even after they're married. Something that isn't like 'Hi! I'm an engagement ring!', you know? All of the gems are inset, so they won't catch on anything."

"So you've seen it?" She asks, rolling onto her stomach, propping her head on her hand to look at him.

"Yeah," he smiles, "I'm not an expert in jewelry, but I'd say it's pretty amazing – and definitely very _Sam_."

"Can you describe it to me?" she pleads, fluttering her eyelashes.

"I can do better," he grunts, summoning his PDA from his pocket, "I have a picture. I mean, it hardly does it justice, but it works."

She leaps from her spot on the chaise to skip over to his desk, leaning against the back of his chair. He scrolls through folders of photos until he finds the one he wants, and then scrolls through more photos.

"Oh, _wow_," she breathes when he finds it, "No wonder it cost him. Are those real?"

"Everything," Tucker nods, "Yeah. The amethyst, the emeralds, the silver…all real. All specially cut."

"Ouch," she winces, "That couldn't have been easy on the wallet. He knows Sam wouldn't care about something like that, though, so…why?"

"I think he wants to make sure she'll have something if he…" he takes a deep breath, "…you know…"

"He's pretty conscious about it, for all his recklessness," she whispers, sliding her arms around her boyfriend's shoulders.

"He _knows_ he can die, Val," he places his hand over hers, "he's _very _conscious of that…he just…" he sighs, "…'doesn't care' isn't the right phrase…"

"It's just not the highest thing on the totem pole," she finishes for him, earning a nod.

"Yeah."

"The flowers were nice, Johnny, but you just can't stop, can you?!"

"You _know_ I love you, Kitten! Isn't it natural to look towards something that moves in the corner of your vision?"

"Yeah," a snort drifts through the window, "Especially when that _something_ happens to big a big pair of–"

"You _know_ I'm a hip guy!"

"Here we go," Tucker mutters, abruptly standing, "Get your suit ready."

The two ghosts stand in front of the building, Johnny on his motorcycle, and Kitty standing with her hands fisted at her hips. She taps her foot impatiently.

"Come on, Kitten, let's just go home? We can stop by your favorite place on the way, and then…I'll sleep on the couch."

Tucker's eyes flick to where a couple of out-of-town ghost-hunters emerge from a bush. He motions to Valerie, who summons her sled and zooms out the window, landing behind the waiting hunters.

"Leave them be," she growls, startling them, "there's no need to blast holes in the pavement!"

"No _need_?!" they hiss.

"You heard me," she shouts, "And the mayor said that all ghost hunting was to be left to me or the Fentons. Johnny and Kitty fight all the time. As long as they keep it to yelling and don't start destroying things, there's no reason to get involved. It's better if you don't, honestly."

"Oh, _wow_," Kitty snorts, trying to stay mad despite the wry smile on her face, "Who suggested that one? I know you wouldn't think of it yourself."

"…Phantom's girlfriend," he mutters, causing Tucker's head to rocket into the air. Valerie leaves the hunters and snatches him from the window, lowering him to the pavement. He strides quickly to Johnny.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but…_when_ did you speak to them?" he inquires quietly.

"A few days ago," he replies, "I rode all the way to that cruise ship. _Man_, he was _mad!_ He told me that if any other ghosts showed up, he'd blast them to the end of the Infinite Realms…or to Klemper. Not sure which is worse, but…"

"Was there anything…odd?"

"Odd?" he repeats, "Like what?"

"Like anything that would've kept them from contacting anybody?"

"…you know, his girlfriend was yelling at me not to leave the way I was…I didn't hear more than 'Wait! Not through–' before I went through the walls and out on my bike again."

"Johnny, what did you fly through?" Tucker dreads the answer he already suspects.

"I don't know, man, I was going like…eighty miles an hour!"

"Could it have been an engine or a generator?" his mind scrolls through blueprints he's seen.

"I don't know…maybe," the ghost shrugs. Tucker massages his temples.

"…Well, it's disappointing he couldn't come up with it himself, but I suppose he has to learn _somehow_," Kitty growls, inspecting her fingernails, "Can we go now? We need to hit the mall. I'm not going without someone to carry my bags."

"Yeah. Just make sure the shadow doesn't touch anything, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Johnny sighs, but smiles as Kitty seats herself behind him.

"Have a good day, Mayor," she dismisses before they blast away with a loud rumble.

Tucker watches them leave for a moment, before having Valerie lift him back through his window. He immediately sits at his desk, searching on his computer and pulling his phone closer. He finds the cruise's website, as well as its schedule. He punches a number into the phone, holding it to his ear.

"What are you thinking, Babe?" Valerie asks, removing her suit.

"I'm thinking that Danny and Sam may not be on a cruise anymore."

**Review shout-outs:**

**xXxDisillusionsxXx: Why do I do what, exactly? Be specific! ;P**

**kinitsukirihan: ]:-} Not quite, but you'll see…**

**Rhyolite56: Glad I'm not boring you anymore. Sorry, I just really suck at action scenes. Character introspection? World interpretation? Yeah, those I can do.**

**YumiStar: You must be psychic. :D**


	20. Fine

**A/N: Hey! So…I tend to update often, but I've been fighting allergies (lots of sleep-inducing allergy meds…) and working…yeah, I'm just making excuses…you guys will enjoy Chapter #1 of Crown of Fire when I start posting it, though. It's the sequel to this, after all. It's at 2,289 words, and I still have one –BREAK- section to go on it! Also, Jazz is a bigger player, and we're introduced with her, so we'll find out more about her college life in Chapter #1! :D Her roomies are fun.**

**I've also been trying to write a little more of The Funeral Singer, as it's pretty popular with you guys too.**

**So, some random trivia for this chapter: the difference between psychopaths and sociopaths. Danny doesn't know (or care about) the difference, but I got my info from a Psychology Today article.**

**Psychopaths are usually calm, well-educated, and meticulous planners. True psychopaths are incapable of forming emotional bonds or empathy. People are just tools. Objects. They are skilled manipulators, however, so it can be difficult to identify a true psychopath, as they're excellent at pretending to be like everyone else.**

**Sociopaths, on the other hand, tend to be more unstable. They're prone to emotional outbursts, and find it difficult to hold a steady job. They can form emotional attachments, though it may be difficult, to a single person or ideal.**

**Let's put it this way. Two men each commit a gruesome murder. The psychopath's neighbors will say "I would never have thought he would do such a thing…I can't believe it!" while the sociopath's neighbors will just nod their heads and say they should've seen it.**

**Kovich is a psychopath. Ramirez and Ross are sociopaths, though Ross is the less stable of the two.**

Chapter #20: Fine

_::…Danny?::_

_::Sam…::_

_::Danny, are you…are you okay?::_ she asks.

_::I'm fine,::_ he answers quickly.

_::Bull,::_ she snorts weakly, _::I got…snippets. Those…! I'm going to _kill them_!::_

He clenches his jaw, opening his eyes and glancing at his arm, where small cuts decorate the skin. Looking at it now, he realizes why it looks so familiar. The small slices are reminiscent of Van Gogh's "Starry Night."

He can hear Sam's breath hitch in his mind, and he immediately looks away, unaware she'd been able to see it.

_::That…that's just _sick_,::_ her voice trembles, _::…how can you be 'fine'?!::_

_::It won't kill me,::_ he replies, _::I'm fine, really.::_

_::It hurt enough that you couldn't keep the wall up,::_ she argues.

_::I wasn't prepared for it,::_ he admits, _::I keep forgetting that being depowered reduces my tolerance for pain. It was hardly unbearable. After a while, everything just…went numb. Where are you guys, anyway?::_

_::Don't try to change the subject,::_ she growls.

_::They're relatively shallow. After a trip to the Infinite Realms, you won't even be able to see the scars. Where are you?::_

He can feel her steaming through their link, _::We made it to the main cafeteria, so we're good on water and food. I took out a pirate and stole some of his stuff. They have mostly DALV weapons, with a few Fenton devices…so what were they…t…you know…for?::_

_::They wanted information. I told them what I deemed useless, but I clammed up when they asked me how I became a halfa. _That _shouldn't become common knowledge. We don't need armies of halfas, and I'm not sure what the chances are of surviving the exposure is to begin with.::_

She swears angrily, _::I'm going to kill them!::_

_::That reminds me…I know why they haven't called in a ransom.::_

_::…why?::_

_::We're not hostages, Sam. We're _cargo_.::_

A pregnant pause ensues as she connects the dots, _::…cargo?::_

_::Apparently, between the ghost info, my exclusive halfa status, and the fact that I apparently am _just the type_ for a regular client of his, I'm worth a small fortune. You, with your gorgeous eyes, are apparently worth a pretty penny too. As though I didn't already know.::_

_::…dork. This isn't funny!::_

_::Keep an eye out. Kovich and Ramirez are out there hunting you guys. Did the guard you take out have an earpiece?::_

_::Yeah, I'm wearing it. They're two floors down. We'll head out soon.::_

_::…I wish I could've seen it,:: _he pouts, _::All that time I spent teaching and sparring with you, and I don't get to see you use it.::_

_::You taught me well,::_ she replies, _::I don't think he even saw it coming.::_

_::How'd you do it, exactly?::_ he asks, _::Since I couldn't see it myself.::_

_::I'll show you…on one condition…you've been blocking me a lot recently, Danny. What's going on?::_

_::Nothing worth worrying over,::_ he assures quickly, _::Really, Sam.::_

_::Danny,::_ she warns, _::Is something wrong?::_

_::No,::_ he laughs, sensing her anxiety, _::Nothing _wrong_.::_

_::So when are you going to tell me?::_ Her anger flares, but she struggles to keep it under check.

_::Tell you what?::_

_::…Danny…::_ she growls.

_::…Sam…::_ he smirks back.

"Hey, what're _you_ smirking about, you little freak?" Ross's fingers snag into his hair, pulling his face to his, "What's so funny?"

_::Hands off my boyfriend, you-!::_

"I just noticed your handiwork," Danny grunts back, "I'm trying to decide whether it's sick and twisted or cute and creative."

_::And who are you calling a freak?!::_

There's a sharp pull at his shoulders as Ross uses his foot to press down on his wrists.

_::Sorry, Sam, I'm afraid he's getting jealous. I hope you'll forgive my little trysts,::_ Danny grunts, quickly shutting his mind away from hers.

He grits his teeth as the tendons pop. He tries to relax his body, but the muscles are tight after hours tied to the chair. If Ross exerts much more pressure, his shoulders will dislocate. He's dislocated them in the past, and even in ghost form, it's something he doesn't want to repeat. He sinks as low as he can in his chair to relieve the strain and looses a long breath as Ross removes his foot, eliminating the threat.

"You should watch your smart little mouth," Burgess comments as his companion vanishes to the adjacent room, "Ross isn't the most stable member of the crew."

"Yeah, I noticed. I think he's in competition with Ramirez," Danny retorts flatly.

Burgess snorts, fiddling with the radio, "Ramirez is perfectly stable in comparison."

"So he's _just_ a psychopath, rather than a psycho on the edge of a break."

"Pretty much."

"So what about you?" Danny sneers, "What's your problem, huh?"

He shrugs, "I'm greedy, like nearly everyone else on this boat. Kovich is a reliable source of cash, so I follow him. I like the Caribbean more than Somalia."

"I don't know…I'm thinking that Sam and I should've gone camping at Lake Superior," he retorts, "Or maybe done a road-trip to Lake Erie – with one 'e'."

The usually stoic man cracks a small smile, "A bit cold in spring, though, isn't it?"

"I suppose it probably is," he chuckles.

_::...cuddling fixes that problem,::_ Sam interrupts quietly, _::are you okay, Danny?::_

_::Well, nothing's dislocated, so I'd say...yeah,::_ he rolls his shoulders a little, tilting his head to stretch the muscles at his neck.

_::I heard Kovich and Ramirez talking on the radio. They're heading back. They think you might be able to help somehow.::_

_::Don't worry about me, Sam. I'm the most valuable piece of cargo on this ship, as far as they're concerned. They won't kill me.::_

_::But they can cause you pain.::_

_::I'm used to that,::_ he assures, _::Just so long as they don't get you. Any of you. Do you understand? Nothing they can do to _me_ will break me.::_

_::…I understand,::_ she whispers, imagining a soft, yet somehow desperate, kiss, _::We'll keep moving, formulate a plan.::_

_::If you can take their boat, do it. I didn't blow a hole in it for a reason.::_

_::They still have too many guards.::_

_::Well…I'm sure you can find a way to lure them away. You're clever like that…I love you, Sam, but I'm exhausted.::_

_::Yeah, get some sleep before Kovich gets back. I love you, Danny.::_

**Young Phantom: Yeah…sorry about that. Most of my regulars can attest that I typically update faster. You aren't the only one who's been getting worried.**

**xXxDisillusionsxXx: Yeah. I'm quite fond of my version of Tucker, so I can't just…forget about him for an entire book. :D**

**krose240: Thanks! I hope you continue to enjoy, even if my update speed is slowing.**

**The Talent: Val's source? Eh, who knows. I imagine that Amity Park has the main, larger city, and then the smaller suburbs around the school that have a little more of a 'small-town' mentality (everybody hears everything), even though it's technically part of a larger city.**

**KuriMaster13: Quite frankly, I think it's probably worth more pennies than one for every villain he's defeated…maybe one for every pun he makes. (Not really.) I think the ring was AT LEAST $3,000 USD, if not more than $6,000. I don't think Danny's made up to six-hundred-thousand (600,00) enemies or even puns in less than four years.**


	21. Lifeboats

**A/N: Yay! Update! (A short one, though.) I've also finished the first chapter of "Crown of Fire." It's more than 5,000 words long! I'm not sure if other chapters will be that long, but that one is! Also, I've put a little 'teaser' picture on my Deviantart. The link can be found on my profile. I can't wait to finish Adrift so I can upload it! Also, if you read the description on DevArt, you can read a little section of the chapter. :D**

**Important question: Who do you guys ship Jazz with? I once saw something with Ghost Writer and I thought 'Hm…I could see the appeal of that pairing…' So would you guys want her with G.W. or an OC? I can't think of anyone else in-verse that I would ship her with, after all. Oh, questions, questions. If not G.W., what type of person would you put her with? **

Chapter #21: Lifeboats

Tucker slams the phone back onto the receiver, his blue-green eyes alight with fury. A flurry of hissed curses tumbles from his lips, and he tosses his glasses carelessly to his desk to rub at the corners of his eyes.

"They never made any of their scheduled stops, Val," his fist pounds the desk, "And no one alerted anybody else!"

"Tucker…"

He swears, "I _knew_ something was up!" he turns back to his computer, typing furiously, "Those corporate-" he cuts off, shaking his head, "they're useless. Absolutely useless! They all thought their port was skipped due to a 'sudden, vicious tropical storm.' A hundred bucks says that Vortex was stirring up trouble…and what do you know!" he indicates a skeletal globe on the screen, with the date of a few days earlier at the bottom of the window. A swirling green pattern whirls above the Caribbean.

"Babe, what is that?" she asks, afraid of the answer.

"_This_ is a satellite image from one of the G.I.W.'s spectral-tracking satellites, meant to detect large amounts of ectoplasmic energy. You can see Amity Park from here," he points to a bright green spot in the northern U.S..

"I didn't think they'd give access to something like that," she frowns.

"With a backdoor like that, they might as well have," he growls.

"I'm going to forget you said that."

"You probably should," he shrugs, "anyway, that swirling cloud of _doom_ is Vortex at work the second day of the cruise."

"Do you think they wrecked?" she folds her arms across her chest, glaring at the globe.

"Unlikely," he shakes his head, "it's a pretty big ship. Not as big as _some_, but big enough. Johnny said he drove through something Sam shouted he shouldn't. We haven't gotten any communication from Sam or Danny. The ship hasn't stopped in at any ports. My guess? The ship's stranded without working communication – probably damaged in the storm. Not only that, but they could be _miles_ off course."

"…and you realized this as a possibility the moment Johnny said he saw Danny."

"Yeah," he nods, "It just…I feel like I'm right. I also feel like I can hear Danny screaming and Sam shouting his name. But then again," he smiles momentarily, "I've gotten paranoid."

"You're the strategist. It's your job to be a little paranoid," she kisses his cheek, "So what are you going to do?"

"…I think it's time to start looking for lifeboats," he sits at his chair again and dials a number from the screen, "Hello? This is _Mayor_ Tucker Foley, of Amity Park. I believe you need to look for lifeboats, because one of your ships is probably adrift at sea."

-BREAK-

The hefty down-thrust of the helicopter whips hair away from pale faces. Tucker scans the boat, not finding the friends he's looking for. He helps the rescued passengers into the safety of the chopper, only noticing the familiar faces as he assists them inside.

"Mayor Foley!" Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez smile, "Count on you to help out in a crisis!" She carries her younger daughter, Paulina's little sister. The little girl smiles brightly, and Tuck can't help but think she'll end up the A-List Queen just like her older sister.

"Have you seen Danny and Sam? The Mansons?" he shouts over the roar of whirring blades.

"Some of the lifeboats were damaged," Mr. Manson responds, "I think they stayed behind with a few others!"

"Of course they did," Tucker sighs, unheard by those around him, "Just cram together and get warm! We have food and EMTs on land!"

The boats had been located near Melbourne, Florida. Each told the same basic story; a loss of power, a sudden storm, and rumors of pirates.

"Pirates. Of course," Tucker snorts, still unheard over the rotors, "Of course _Danny_ would end up getting attacked by modern Caribbean pirates. I wonder if they all talk like Jack Sparrow and drink rum all day!"

_"__To think _you_ were called 'Bad-Luck Tuck'," _Val laughs through an earpiece.

"Val, I love you, but please don't _ever_ mention that nickname again."

_"__It's probably all Danny. You just hung out with him all the time, so everyone thought it was you."_

"Agreed. Is the speeder ready?"

_"__Along with the Boo-merang."_

"You mean the stupidly-named tracking device," he snorts, "I'll meet you back at port."

_"__Roger that."_

He vanishes into the crowd as soon as they land, avoiding the cameras of the excited reporters. He slips through the crowd unnoticed in his black windbreaker, which bears the logo of a local news station on the back. Finally, he makes it through the throng, moving in warehouse shadows until he slips down to another dock, where Valerie leans against the Speeder.

"Pretty good for less than ten hours," she comments, "You know how to get things done, don't you?"

"It's amazing what you can get when you promise Danny's autograph," he smirks, "And yell enough. Is it programmed to Danny's signature?"

"Yeah," she lifts the slim silver device, "Ready?"

He seats himself in the pilot's seat of the speeder and retracts the windshield, "Yeah. Throw it!"

She tosses it, and he begins to follow behind. But it suddenly turns around, and she catches it deftly.

_"__Signature cannot be detected. Signature cannot be detected,"_ it buzzes.

"What does that mean?" Valerie's wide eyes swivel to her boyfriend. He's gone pale, and his hands shake at the controls.

"He…he can't be. It's not like…it's not like it's the _only_ possibility," he mutters quietly.

"Is it saying that Danny is…?"

"No," he cuts sharply, "It could also mean that his ghost half has been suppressed. It could be the same for excessive ectoplasmic interference…anyway, it looks like we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way."

"And what would that be?"

"Work the currents backward."

"Or we ask for directions," she points, indicating a soft, glowing figure who hovers above the waves. He blinks, trying to focus on the distant figure, but it vanishes. It reappears suddenly in the windshield, eliciting a startled yelp from the mayor.

_"__You…are the King-Sealer's companions, are you not?"_ she asks, her voice echoing in the night.

"If you mean Danny Phantom, yes," Valerie answers, "Do you know where he is?"

_"__It is a bit far."_

"Lead the way."


	22. My Everything

**A/N: YAY! AN UPDATE! WOOO!**

**So…almost nobody answered my VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION from the last A/N: So…who do you ship Jazz with? I'm considering Ghost Writer, or creating an OC.**

**Anyway, here are some review highlights…which I forgot to do last time!**

**WhiteWinterStar: Yep, that was Rose!**

**The Talent: We'll see if I can expound on this in Adrift, or if it'll show up more in Crown of Fire…**

**Cartwheellou: Ah, yes, the BOO-merang.**

**Yurika the Lunara: Welcome to the madness! Muahahahahaha!**

Chapter #22: My Everything

Fire sears in his veins, and he struggles to catch his next breath. His skin shines with a thin sheen of sweat.

"So, tell us, _Daniel_," Kovich smiles, "If we keep you here long enough, your pretty little girlfriend is bound to come for you, isn't she?"

He coughs, his hands clenching behind his back, "She knows better," he pants, "She's dating a superhero. You think she's not used to this? Too bad for you, I'm all you get."

The smile slides from his face, "Burgess, I think our friend here just said he likes the effects of our little cocktail. Give him another dosage."

Danny's eyes slide to the little red vial, and the syringe filling with potion. His gaze moves to his arm, where blood has trickled down and dripped on the floor. His veins are an agitated red around the small puncture.

"What did you call it? The red flowers?" Ramirez grins, "_Blood Blossoms_. I like it. What do you think would happen if we dumped it into the water around here?"

"That depends. Where are we?" Danny rasps.

"Cute," he laughs, "Where we are doesn't matter to you. You're just cargo, now."

"Well," he sneers, "it was worth a try."

The syringe is inserted into a different vein, and he can feel it the moment it comes into contact with his body. His lungs seize, and he spasms as every nerve in his body lights on fire again. Finally, he manages to pull air into his lungs, but it's not long before the poison reaches them. He coughs again, a tasting blood.

"You didn't put too much, did you?" Kovich presses, raising an eyebrow.

"He's capable of surviving more than your average human. He'll probably be fine," Burgess dismisses.

"I hope so," he rumbles, "Now, my young ghost. Who is the most powerful ghost besides Pariah Dark?"

"It took more than one ghost to seal him away," Danny smirks, "So who knows?"

He clicks his tongue, "You're not being helpful, Mr. Fenton."

"My knowledge of the Infinite Realms is hardly endless," he laughs, quickly reduced to coughs.

"So what are your parents working on? New ghost tech is valuable."

"Who knows? They keep it secret from me and Jazz – they just lock themselves into the lab. It's not like they're using them on _me_ anymore. What do _I_ care about what they're making?"

Ross grips the halfa's shirt, pulling him up, "When Captain Kovich tells you you're not being helpful, you need to be helpful."

"Then he needs to ask the right questions."

"I want to know how half-ghosts like _you_ are created!" Kovich shouts, "And I want to know where your little girlfriend is!"

"Too bad," Danny smiles, tilting his head to look around Ross, "You'll never hear that information from me, even if you finish killing me."

The world swirls in his vision, but he can still see Kovich's cold eyes, alight with the fury of a man who is used to getting his way. A man who has been defied and denied.

"She took out one of my men," he struggles to keep his composure, "Stole his radio, no? Did _you_ teach her how to fight?"

"I just wish I could have seen it," Danny laughs, darkness gathering at the edges of his vision.

"She's got fighting spirit," Ramirez acknowledges, twirling a knife between his fingers, "She'd have survived in my village. She'd have been one of the ones who carried guns against the cartel. My partner. My support. If only she had grown up with me, instead of in a privileged little penthouse. I suppose, however," he smiles, leaning closer, "she could not escape her destiny. Her destiny to be a fighter, a destroyer of enemies. Someday, she will become a killer, as she was meant to."

"Yeah. She kills the weeds infesting her garden on a regular basis. She's a cold-blooded killer," he snips back weakly, his head beginning to pound. The darkness closes in further.

"You know where I think she'd look amazing?" Ramirez whispers in his ear, knowing that his consciousness is fading, "She'd fit nicely in my bed. It'd be a bit of a squeeze for both of us, but…then again, we won't be sleeping, now will we?"

"You…" he struggles, his tongue thick.

"I'll let you watch. Do you think she'll call out for you?"

Danny's eyes slip closed against his will, fury dying on his lips. Ramirez watches for a few moments, turning away with a snicker.

"I hope you didn't kill our payday, Burgess," he laughs.

"He's fine," he dismisses, flipping another page of his book.

_"__Fine, huh?"_ they turn back to the captive, whose eyes glare red beneath his bangs, _"Listen here, you _worms_. If you _ever_ lay a hand on her, you will _never_ be found again. She's _mine_, do you understand?"_

"Your _what_?" Kovich asks, an ecto-weapon in his hand.

_"__My _what_?"_ he laughs, his voice an unfamiliar rumble, _"My _everything._ My _obsession_, my _life_, my _humanity, _my _queen_. I will _never_ let anyone take her from me."_

"…who are you?"

Their prisoner doesn't reply, his head limp and eyes closed, moving rapidly beneath the lids.

"What the…" Ross breathes, "What _was_ that?"

"I don't know," Kovich replies honestly, "But I don't think that was Daniel Fenton, do you?"

-BREAK-

"Ruined. Our daughter is _ruined,_ Jeremy—"

"Pamela…"

"I thought she was against violence. What _was_ that?! Where did she _learn_ how to do that?!"

"Pamela…"

"Where _did_ you learn?" Natalie whispers.

"Danny taught me. His mom's a black belt. So is Valerie. So really, I've had a plethora of people to learn from," Sam replies, listening carefully for chatter – both on the radio _and_ in her head.

"And she's carrying a _gun_ so comfortably!" Pamela finishes her long-winded rant, her voice several octaves higher than usual.

"Ecto-guns are not technically harmful to humans, but getting a blast to the chest will still leave some nasty bruises," Sam pipes up.

"I think she's more worried about the _other_ one," Jeremy frowns.

Sam looks down at the Glock secured to her hip, with a full clip. Nine bullets. She suppresses a shiver, and quickly looks away, trying to ignore its weight at her side, "Yeah. Honestly, so am I."

She doesn't know why she'd taken it. But just before they left the cafeteria, she felt a mild burning sensation in her arm. Then she'd heard Danny's muffled cries of pain in her mind. Then she heard it – _blood blossoms_. She saw the needle. Then he'd reinforced the wall, and the first thing she saw was the fallen guard, his pistol not even fully drawn from its holster. Next thing she knew, it was in her hands, a grip like sandpaper digging into her palm.

"…m? Sam? Are you okay?" Jeremy asks, "You look pale."

She clenches her jaw, "I'm always pale," she tries to laugh.

He looks at his daughter. Unshed tears glitter in her shadow-rimmed eyes. Her hair is pulled into a hasty ponytail, with a few flyaway strands. She's wearing a tank-top she'd stolen from Danny's cabin not long ago, cut with a knife – one she'd also stolen from his room, though he has no idea how the halfa snuck it on board – to show her stomach.

"Let's take a break. Last you heard, they're all with Danny, right?"

"Yeah," she makes a fist.

They slip into a cabin and place a sleeping Ida on the bed. Sam quickly turns to the door, intending to take the first watch, but Jeremy stops her.

"You need sleep more than any of us. Alright, Sam?"

"I'm fine," she insists, but he takes her shoulders gently and guides her back to the bed, "You've been carrying a lot. Mentally and physically. I'll take the first watch."

"I'll take the one after that," Captain Voss volunteers.

"See? Danny would probably agree that you need rest. We need you sharp. _He_ needs you sharp."

"Right," she mutters, "Thanks," she places the Glock on the stand and hands over the ecto-gun before curling up beside her grandmother.

"Voss, Al? Perhaps Jeremy could use your help out in the hallway," Pamela begins coolly.

"Ah…yes…" they both shift, slipping into the corridor.

"…I was wondering when you'd decide we needed to talk," Sam sighs, "I don't want to hear it, Mom. I've already heard everything—"

"I had a roommate, a long time ago," Pamela interrupts, "She was my best friend. She dated the same guy all through high school. Said they were soul mates. But one day, I found out that he was cheating on her. What is a girl supposed to do, Sammy?" her voice has fallen to a harsh whisper, "Was I supposed to just keep quiet? Shrug it off as a drunken tryst? Maybe it was none of my business. But I finally decided to tell her. She was _furious_. Spent an hour screaming at me, asking why I would make something like that up. A week later, she found out it was true. He broke up with her because he'd found some little blond tramp with large, bouncy breasts," she sneers, her eyes narrowed angrily, "She fell into a depression after that…she'd never imagined her life without him, so when he was out of the picture, she just…she didn't know what to do. All of her dreams, her plans…they were destroyed in an instant. Lizzie was like a sister to me, Sammy, but…I didn't see it coming. I came home from work early one day, and…she'd downed an entire bottle of sleeping pills. She was resuscitated in the hospital, but…she was brain-dead," Sobs catch in her throat, "Part of me wondered if it was all my fault for telling her. Or maybe I hadn't been there like she needed me to be because I was spending too much time talking to your father at coffee shops. I ran through so many scenarios, trying to find a way I could've saved her."

"…I'm sorry," Sam whispers, "I never knew…"

"Do you understand, Sam?" she cuts, "They were just like you and Danny. But he broke her heart, and she _never_ recovered."

"Except that losing Danny is _always_ a possibility," Sam replies softly, "And yeah, it'll hurt if I lose him. _When_ I lose him. I ask him constantly," her voice wavers, "I'll ask him to be careful, to not die on me. I do it all the time. I don't know why," she laughs mirthlessly, "It's as though I'm expecting his answer to be different. He just gets that sad smile on his face and tells me he'll _try_. That he can't promise he'll come back alive, because he knows that one day, he _won't._ The chances of Danny dying of old age are almost zero, and I have to live with that because _I love him_."

"Sam…"

"I love him," she smiles, "I love his goofy smile, the way he scratches at the back of his neck when he's nervous, the silly little gestures of affection. I also love his courage, his selflessness, his confidence. I love the way his eyes flicker acid green when he gets a rush of emotion. I love the way they can be as cold as ice or burn like acid. I love feeling his arms around me when we go flying. I love staring down at Amity Park with a cool breeze in my face and his warmth at my back. His stubborn, selfless nature may tick me off sometimes, but…I love Danny Fenton. I love him as Fenton _and_ Phantom. I will _always_ love him."

"Sammykins…"

"_Always_. He could die _tomorrow_, and even if I did eventually find someone else, he'd have to accept that I'll always love Danny."

"But could he say the same thing about _you_?!" Pamela snaps, "If you died, would he always love _you_, or would he go skipping off with someone like Paulina?!"

Sam goes pale, "Danny wouldn't let Tuck or I die before him anyway," she whispers, "It's dangerous on multiple levels."

"_Dangerous?! For who?!_" she screeches.

"For _everyone!_" Sam snaps, "The World, the Ghost Zone…you name it! If Danny loses the people he loves, bad things happen."

"…a safety net," Jeremy whispers, "He told me you were all like a safety net, but if you were gone, he'd fall from the tightrope he balances on. He also said…" he swallows, "That if he falls, humanity is doomed."

"It's not my place to tell you," she whispers, "The Fenton-Phantom deal I was willing to spill, but _this_ one…this one stays in his court."

_You know, if I had an ounce of humanity left in me this would be a very touching little reunion; but of course, I surrendered my human half a _long time ago_._


	23. Are You?

**A/N: So this is a RIDICULOUSLY short chapter…but it just didn't feel right to continue this particular one further. I felt like this little 220 word section needed to be isolated. Sorry for it, but…as I said: It felt wrong to add more to it…sue me. Actually, don't, because you wouldn't get enough money to pay for your attorney anyway. Anyway…it's SUPER, SUPER short, but enjoy the angst anyway!**

Chapter #23: Are You?

_Something's wrong…_

_Why do I feel so…hot?_

_Blood blossoms…blood blossoms…right…_

Are you really just going to let them talk like that, Daniel?

_Don't call me Daniel!_

They'll sell you _and_ Sam like livestock! Sam's good, but even she can't match a crew of pirates with _lethal_ weapons.

_She…she'll be fine. I'm sure Tuck's noticed something wrong by now…_

You're talking as though there _isn't_ a time limit! You need to act _now_, while they aren't expecting it. They don't know, do they? They don't know that your _precious_ humanity allows you to neutralize blood blossoms more quickly than normal. I suppose there _is_ a reason to keep it.

_Shut up._

You're _weak_, Danny. Let me help you.

_I said _shut up!

Now, now, that's not way to talk to a friend…to _yourself_.

_I _am not_ you! I…_

_You_ have the power of the Infinite Realms at your _fingertips_, and you spend your time playing the hero of Amity Park?!

_What's so bad about that? You have no right–_

_You_ have no right! You were positioned to become the next Ghost King. You would have wielded the power of a _god!_ But instead, you pulled your half-formed self back to your humanity. You bound yourself _and_ Daniel Fenton to a lowly half-life!

_I _am_ Danny Fenton!_

Are you sure about that?


	24. Unusual Self

**A/N: So, the last chapter was SUPER SHORT! But it got a TON of reviews. It's amazing what you can inspire in 220 word (220 excluding A/N and title…) It was a bit of a "Wham Chapter", wasn't it? Next chapter, we'll be finding out who/what the voice is. Some of you are close, some of you are way off. **

**Pokeshadow55: The story is a little dark (at least in comparison to the original cartoon), but the ****_characters_**** aren't dark. I think…does that make sense? They have their moments, but it's less…darkness…and more…acceptance. Acceptance of the good and bad and knowing that the path they're on is the one they chose.**

**ShadowDragon357: I see what you did there…**

**KuriMaster13, KodiakWolfe13, The Talent, and Moon's Meow: Yeah. It just felt so ****_wrong_**** to put it with something else. I'd written a little bit of Tuck and Val's piece after that and…it just didn't work for me. :D**

Chapter #24: Unusual Self

"There it is!" Valerie gasps, pointing at the large shadow on the horizon.

"Yeah, I see it," Tucker grunts, "Radio the mainland and tell them our coordinates. We shouldn't go in without backup, especially if Danny's been depowered."

"Yeah," she slips the headset over her ears and begins to fiddle with the radio.

They drift a little closer, remaining wary of the smaller ship alongside. Tucker pulls a PDA – Allison – from his pocket, and begins to tap away, finding the familiar wavelength of the Fenton Phones. He places his own on his ears, "Sam? Danny? Hello, anyone?"

A curse tumbles through the static, _"Tucker? Is that you?"_

"Yeah," he laughs, "I was serious about those photos."

_"__Tuck, they have Danny and they're torturing him–"_

"I've heard the story," he interrupts, "local ghost. Tell me more about our seafaring friends. You can still talk with him telepathically, right?"

_"__I think he's unconscious right now…they…" _he can hear her swallow thickly, _"They were using a serum made from blood blossoms to torture him. Oh, and just so you know…everyone on the ship knows about Danny's…condition."_

"Wow…how'd your mom take it?"

_"__She didn't die."_

"That's pretty good," he nods, "But we can't save Danny in time for it to matter if we don't know anything about our enemies."

_"__The leader is a man named Yulian Kovich. He's the only one I know the full name of. The others are just referred to as Ross, Ramirez, and Burgess."_

"Got it," he types.

_"__Ross is American. I think he might've been a soldier, but he's…suffering. Ramirez is from somewhere in Central or South America that was warring with the cartel. Burgess is tech-savvy, so watch out for him."_

"Yeah, I noticed," he laughs, moving towards the back as he types on Allison, "I think I'm going to be _really_ grateful that I had the Fentons install a heavy-duty CPU and three monitors back here."

"And backup systems," Valerie adds.

_"__You…have a very dependable mayor, don't you?"_ an unfamiliar voice comments.

_"__He's seventeen,"_ the unmistakable sneer of Pamela Manson cuts.

_"__Eighteen,"_ Sam corrects, _"It's late, but…Happy Birthday, Tuck."_

"Thanks," he smirks, switching the monitors on, "Now…I found some info on our Russian friend. Captain Kovich isn't a pretty character, but he has a lot of friends."

_"__Danny said he plans to sell us."_

"…how much can he get for a half-ghost?"

_"__Tuck…"_

"I'm kidding," he laughs, "relax, Sam. This is normal for us, isn't it?"

_"__Yeah…hey, Tuck, Danny's been walling me out a lot recently. Do you know why?"_

"No," he replies.

_"__That was pretty quick,"_ she growls, _"You didn't even have to think about it?"_

"Nope," he answers, "Now, give me some time to sneak in…"

Everything falls silent, the only noise being the sound of tapping keys. Tucker's eyes dart between screens, a small smile fighting its way to his face. Valerie watches him with soft eyes, only listening halfheartedly to the rescue boats' chatter as they set out from the port.

_"__Tuck…there's something wrong…"_ Sam breathes.

"What–?"

A flash of light engulfs the pirates' little boat, and four figures appear on deck. Tucker pulls himself from his screen and snatches the binoculars from Valerie's hand.

_"__Danny…there's something wrong. It's like…static…"_

Three of the four figures fall to their knees, and the third hovers ominously above. As Tuck raises the binoculars to his eyes, the floating figure turns his head to meet his eyes.

Danny's eyes burn red in the darkness, his black hair mussed by the ocean wind. His skin is ash grey, a darker bruise staining his jaw. His lips are drawn into a grin, showcasing sharp teeth. His lips begin to move, and Tucker can hear the words, a deep rumble, as though the halfa stands beside him.

_"__Well, well, Tucker, it's about time you made it to the party. A little too late to be fashionable though, don't you agree?"_

_"__Tucker, what's going on?!" _Sam shouts, out of breath.

"He…" he struggles, "Danny's out on the deck of the pirate ship. He just…appeared out of nowhere, but…Sam, he's…"

_"__He's what?!"_

"He's not…his usual self," he swallows.

"_I'd_ say," Valerie breathes, "Why are his eyes _red_?!"

_"__His eyes are _what?!_" _Sam gasps.

"Red, Sam. Danny's eyes are red, and…he's looking a little different than normal."

_"__Is it…?"_

"I don't know," he begins to pace, "It _can't_ be him. Clockwork would've given us a heads-up on _that _one."

_"…__Danny had a dream about him recently. I got dragged into it, and when _he_ threatened me, Danny got so angry…his eyes turned red–"_ she pauses, listening to some muffled comment from her father, _"My dad said he sat straight up earlier and had red eyes."_

"We don't exactly know what dictates ghostly eye color," Tucker states, "But I think something is _definitely _wrong."

_"__I'm almost to the deck,"_ she pants, and he hears a door swing open. Through the binoculars, he can see her rush to the railing. Far below, Danny waves a finger to bind his three captives, and the boat begins to creep away from the cruise liner.

He can see Sam shouting from above. Danny's head whips to meet her, and he smiles cheerfully, his eyes still cold. He says something, something only Sam seems to hear, but remains fixed above the smaller boat, which is drifting slowly away.

Sam's lips curl into a sneer, and she takes a the line from one of the grappling hooks in hand, beginning to rappel down. However, she slips, and she begins to fall, her Fenton Phone falling to the water below. Within moments, she's in Danny's arms, his red eyes narrowed in what can only be described as annoyance. He lowers her to the boat before swooping to the front of the craft, ecto-energy gathering around his hand. He dives towards the water, leaving a glowing green streak in the air. With another gesture, it splits open, into a swirling green portal.

"I didn't know Danny could do that," Valerie breaths.

"I don't think _Danny_ knew he could do that," Tucker swallows, "…get going! We need to follow them!" he hisses.

_"__Wait, Tucker!"_ Jeremy Manson shouts through the Fenton-Phone, _"You can't just leave us here!"_

He glances at the ship, which is halfway through the portal, and frowns. He then turns to Valerie, his eyes questioning.

"He's right, Tuck. If anyone can handle it, it's Sam. We need to keep an eye on the boat and make sure the rescue boats get here," she whispers.

He sighs, "We're not going anywhere, Mr. Manson," he assuages.

_"__What about Sammy?!"_ Pamela screeches.

"Even if he's not…his usual self, it seems Danny's still determined to protect her. She'll probably be fine."

_"__Probably?!"_

"Look," he growls, "If I may speak freely, Mrs. Manson, I don't know exactly what's going on. It ticks me off, but I have to admit that. All I can tell you is that Danny – or _whoever_ that is – went out of his way to catch her. But, _please_, excuse me for not being omniscient! I noticed something was _wrong,_ I tracked your most likely location, and set up a _search expedition_ in less than ten hours! So, _please_, I hope you'll also forgive me for being a little cranky!"

_"__Go Mayor Tuck!"_ Ida shouts in the background.

"Thank you, Grandma Manson," he sighs, "Now, we'll stay with you until the rescue boats get here, and what better way to pass the time than to listen to _the whole story?_"


	25. Knight Templar

Chapter #25: Knight Templar

Kovich leans over a table strewn with blueprints of the cruise liner, marking out his next plan of attack with half a dozen different-colored sharpies. He dimly notes the variety of inks smearing the side of his hand, creating the illusion of a mottled bruise.

Ross leans against the wall behind him, obsessively cleaning his gun for the fifth time. His eyes flick regularly to their captive, who breathes slowly from his chair. If the young halfa so much as twitches, the gun will be reassembled in the blink of an eye.

Burgess seems almost troubled as he watches his computer screen – though his reasons could be as trivial as losing his current game of online chess. Then again, he'd probably have the same expression if someone told him his mother had died. There's really no way of knowing.

Ramirez snoozes beside the wall, his hand wrapped around the handle of a knife beneath his pillow. Looking at him, Kovich can hardly remember the ten-year-old child smeared with mud, ash, and blood. The young child crying for his destroyed family even as he wreaked havoc against their killers. Captain Kovich immediately knew he _had_ to have the boy. He flipped his coin and Lady Luck had smiled upon the boy.

He looks down at his plans, and pulls the quarter from his pocket. It flips into the air, and he waits for it to fall to the table.

He waits, not hearing the tell-tale ring of contact.

_"I think your lady has abandoned you,"_ a voice hisses in his ear, and the coin is carefully placed tails-up on the table, _"She's blowing on _my_ dice now, Kovich."_

All of his breath is sucked away in a flash of light. When he can fill his lungs again, it's the salty sea air on his lips. The metal deck of his ship is under his knees, he lifts his head, spying Ross and Ramirez in the same situation. Ross coughs, trying to catch his breath. Ramirez groans, rolling over with a grimace. A shadow floats overhead, red eyes glowing from his silhouette against the moon.

The shadow turns, his lips moving without sound, showcasing sharp teeth. Moonlight spills across his skin, revealing it to be more ashen in color than before. He then moves a hand, and a green rope appears, wrapping around the three pirates as the little boat begins to creep forward.

Shouting can be heard from above, and the halfa reacts, his head swinging around to stare at the railing, where a small figure stands, waiting. His lips move silently once again, a cheerful grin on his face. He continues to watch in amusement as she rappels down, but disappears in the blink of an eye, appearing to catch his amore.

The young woman is placed gently on the deck, before her boyfriend swoops to the front of the craft. She stares at her bleeding palms with mild distaste, lifting her gaze as a swirling green hole is torn into the air.

"I didn't think he knew how to do that," she whispers, turning to Kovich. Her amethyst eyes spark angrily, and the next thing he knows is a steel-toed boot hammering into his jaw, "_You!_"

"Hey, missy, why don't you come play with me?" Ramirez smirks, finally awake, "I like playing rough."

"Oh, you'll get your turn," she sneers, drawing a Glock from her side, leveling it at Kovich.

"You don't have the guts," the Russian snorts, eyeing her white-knuckle grip.

"I disagree," Ramirez protests, "She's a warrior. She'll do whatever she has to."

"Either way, she still has a gun in your face, Captain," Ross adds.

"She's a vegetarian," Kovich snorts, "She can't eat an animal she didn't have to kill."

"I'm an ultra-recylo-vegetarian," she corrects, pulling back the slide, "I don't support killing _innocent animals_. I'm pretty sure you hardly count."

-BREAK-

_::…Danny! Danny!:: _she shouts mentally, clawing at the static, "Tucker, what's going on?!"

_"He…" _he struggles, _"Danny's out on the deck of the pirate ship. He just…appeared out of nowhere, but…Sam, he's…"_

"He's what?!"

_"He's not…his usual self," _he swallows.

_"_I'd _say,"_ Valerie breathes somewhere behind Tuck,_ "Why are his eyes _red?_!"_

"His eyes are _what_?!"Sam gasps, catching her parents' attention.

_"Red, Sam. Danny's eyes are red, and…he's looking a little different than normal."_

"Is it…?"

_"I don't know,"_ she can hear his feet on the floor as he begins to pace, _"It can't be him. Clockwork would've given us a heads-up on that one."_

"…Danny had a dream about him recently. I got dragged into it, and when he threatened me, Danny got so angry…his eyes turned red–"

"Red eyes?" Jeremy interrupts, "He woke up from some dream the other night and they were…you know…it scared the crap out of me. He shot straight up. His eyes…I don't think he was actually awake…"

"My dad said he sat straight up earlier and had red eyes," she begins to sprint along a corridor.

_"We don't exactly know what dictates ghostly eye color,"_ Tucker states, _"But I think something is _definitely_ wrong."_

"I'm almost to the deck," she pants, throwing open a door. She rushes to the railing she'd been keeping an eye on, hoping to sneak onto the boat. Danny floats below, hovering above the smaller vessel. His three captives are tightly wrapped with ecto-cords.

"Danny!" she shouts, "Danny! Are you okay?!"

He turns to face her, his ashen skin glowing in the moonlight. A smile reveals sharp teeth, but her eyes are locked to the dark bruise on his chin, and then to the fiery eyes.

_"Samantha,"_ he rumbles, _"You must have been worried. I'm fine now – now, if you please, my queen, allow me to dispose of these…insects."_

"You aren't Danny," she sneers, "He would _never _call me Samantha!" She grasps a line from the grappling hooks in her hand, pulling one end behind her hip and lowering herself overboard. The rope tears at her palms, and he struggles to keep a painful grip, _I could really use some gloves right now!_

The line slips in her bloody grasp, and she yelps, unable to catch herself. But she doesn't fall far, caught by familiar arms. She opens her eyes, meeting with his red orbs. They're narrowed, and his lips are pressed together in a firm frown.

"Danny, what's wrong?" She asks, "Please, I'm okay, aren't I? I could use a shower, but I'm okay. You can calm down."

"I am calm," he snorts, "If anyone's overreacting, it's you. Look at your hands," he snorts roughly, depositing her on the deck.

She listens, glancing at her palms, _I should've looked for some gloves. I'm sure Captain Voss knows where the maintenance crews keep some…_

A large, swirling, green portal opens in the air in front of the ship, and all her breath leaves for a moment, "I didn't think he knew how to do that," she whispers. A cough catches her attention, and she swirls on one of Danny's former captors. She flicks her steel-toed boot up, slamming it into his jaw, "_You!_"

Kovich grunts, ignoring the trickle of blood trickling down his chin.

"Hey, missy, why don't you come play with me?" Ramirez interrupts with a smirk, "I like playing rough."

"Oh, you'll get your turn," she sneers, drawing a Glock from her side, leveling it at Kovich.

"You don't have the guts," the Russian snorts, eyeing her white-knuckle grip.

"I disagree," Ramirez protests, "She's a warrior. She'll do whatever she has to."

"Either way, she still has a gun in your face, Captain," Ross adds.

"She's a vegetarian, based on the dining specifications in her registration," Kovich snorts, "She can't even eat an animal she's never seen, let alone one she's killed herself."

"I'm an ultra-recylo-vegetarian," she corrects, pulling back the slide, "I don't support killing _innocent animals_. I'm pretty sure you hardly count."

"Ah-ah-ah," a gentle rumble whispers in her ear. An ashen hand grasps the barrel, pulling it away from the pirate. She can feel Danny's breath on her ear, and a gentle kiss on her neck. She turns her head, spying the red eyes beneath his bangs. His eyes meet hers, and the gun is pulled to press against his abs.

"What are you doing?!" She hisses, ensuring her finger remains away from the trigger.

"_I'm_ the only one you're allowed to kill," an arm wraps around her waist, "You're _my_ murderer. I won't give you away to _anyone._"

"Murderer?" she breathes.

"Oh, come _on_, Samantha," he laughs, tilting his head, "We joke about it all the time. Though, in your case, I think the technical term would be 'manslaughter.' But," he turns away, tangling his fingers into Ramirez's hair and pulling the young man's face upward, "semantics, really, don't you agree?" he drops him.

"You…aren't Danny," she whispers, tightening her grip on the firearm, "So who are you? His future alter-ego?"

"_That_ abomination?!" he growls, his eyes glowing brighter with fury, "That…Plasmius-Phantom mutt?! I think not," he takes to the sky, sitting with one leg crossed over the other. The green sky of the Ghost Zone slides into view behind him.

"If you're not him, then _who are you?!"_ she shouts.

"…it only took one little question to set him off-balance enough to take control," he begins abruptly, "Just one little question, feeding his doubt, and now I'm here."

"I don't understand," she frowns.

"I suppose you wouldn't," he sighs, lying back in the air, "Tell me, Samantha…did Danny tell you _everything_ that happened in the portal?"

"He was electrocuted half to death, he blacked out and woke up in his room," she answers cautiously.

"That's not everything," he laughs, "but then again, he didn't remember until…when he almost died on the field trip. I guess getting that close to death cleared up his amnesia. I don't blame him for not telling you. It's…personal. Then again, his was…unusual."

"Just get to the point!" she shouts.

"That day…in the portal," his eyes are conflicted, pain on his features, "that day…everything was ruined…by _you_."

-BREAK-

_"I guess it's time, huh?" he whispers._

**Spirit. Split thyself from Humanity and cleanse thyself from Impurity.**

"No! I…I'm not ready. I…I had so much I still had to do!" _Humanity screams, his blue eyes wide and his face pale, _"I…I had to become an astronaut! I had to see Earth from space for myself! I…I never kissed a girl–"

_"Forget it, Humanity. Death doesn't negotiate with the likes of us."_

**Impurity speaks the truth, Humanity. Spirit, you must leave them.**

"…So soon?"

**Fourteen years is a fortunate sum, compared to others.**

"But what about her?"_ the white-haired being inquires, his green eyes glancing to the opening of the portal, where _she_ stands, frozen, her face contorted by fear._

**Her spirit will join you soon enough. We must go, Spirit.**

"I understand…" _he whispers, and the thin, glowing line between he and Humanity breaks. Humanity freezes, his eyes wide as they glaze over, and he slumps to the ground. Impurity stares at the line between he and Soul as it begins to whither. He then turns his red-eyed gaze to the thread connecting him to the fallen Humanity. Emotions swirl around him, lost desires. The desire to fly, the desire to see space. The worry for his friends, his family. All of Humanity's worries flow along the thread, gathering emotions from the miasma of the Infinite Realms._

"I just want to help her," _Humanity whispers weakly,_ "She looks so scared."

_"I'm amazed you can still talk," Impurity comments, breathing in the emotions._

"Death…you said her spirit will be joining mine soon," _Humanity wheezes_, "Why?"

**She's the reason for your death, Humanity. Her guilt will swallow her until she can no longer bear to take another breath.**

"She'll…" _his fingers twitch,_ "I can't let her do that!"

_"It's not your place to decide, Humanity," Impurity hisses, "Listen to yourself. You're going mad!"_

**If it comforts you, child, it is fast. She's gone before anyone knows she needs to be saved.**

"No!" _he whimpers,_ "There has to be another way! A way to tell her that it's okay, that it isn't her fault–"

_"But it _is_ her fault," he snaps, "You're half-gone anyway. You can't possibly return to the land of the living again. Just let yourself go, Humanity."_

_Spirit stares at the writhing Humanity, his green eyes conflicted. They turn to Impurity, taking in the swirling power around him._

_"Spirit, you can't be–"_

"I cannot do it without you, Impurity. Humanity cannot exist without you."

**Spirit. This is not the path that was written.**

"No, but Humanity alone possesses the ability to alter that path. He has will, agency…dreams,"_ Spirit whispers._

_"No, you can't do this!" Impurity shouts, "This power…and there's so much more to come! My freedom! I'm sick of being tied to him! I could rule the Infinite Realms! He's not the only one with dreams, Spirit!"_

"But he's the only one constrained by time, Impurity. You will have the timelessness of the Infinite Realms,"_ he takes a step towards the prone Humanity, _"All he truly desires is to protect her."

**He is half gone. What can you do?**

"This," _Spirit replies, grasping Humanity's hand with his own. A bright light surrounds them, and Impurity feels a sharp tug at the thread that connects him to Humanity. When the light fades, he feels the weight of a body around him once again. A cold ache is in his chest._

**Spirit…what have you done?!**

-BREAK-

"There was only half of Humanity left, so Spirit stole some of the ghostly power I'd collected and fused it to himself. This power allowed him to fuse with Humanity. However, it…" he frowns, "There used to be three of us, but now Humanity and Spirit are one being. It's like…" the red-eyed Danny – Impurity – struggles, "Imagine that you have a puzzle, and one piece is missing. There's another one in the box, but while the rest of the puzzle is a forest scene, this remaining piece is bright green. It doesn't match the blue sky-pieces around it, but it's the right shape. So you shove it in place and paint it blue. From that point on, it's part of the puzzle, indistinguishable from the rest."

"So, you're…?" her eyes narrow.

"I am Impurity," he answers, "Together with Spirit and Humanity, I make up the soul known as Daniel James Fenton. However…after that incident in the portal, a small rift was created between me and the others. Gaining that much ecto-energy began to give me independence from Humanity, but it wasn't until the 'future' incident that I really began to notice. That _Danny_ began to notice."

"So you're the devil on his shoulder," she growls.

"Almost," he 'tsk's, "You see, unlike the cliché, _I_ actually have Danny's wellbeing in mind. You see, killing these maggots," a sword of ice forms in his hand, "would keep them from exposing his secret, and, even more importantly, it'd keep them away from _you_. I may be impure, but I'm not _evil_. I'm just…ruthless. I'm…possessive. I am the manifestation of Danny's obsession, taken to the extreme. I am the Knight Templar who will extinguish any possible threats to those I hold dear."

"Danny–"

He places the tip of the icy blade at Ramirez's throat, "And they're a threat. _They_ are _evil_."

**A/N: DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNNN! Chapter #25! No, it's not Dan. Sorry, folks, I know a lot of you were all excited. (Please don't hate me…) I hope this chapter made sense…things make sense in my head, but I'm not sure if I always convey them properly. **

**WhiteWinterStar: Yeah, it probably was. It's because Tucker's listening to Sam, and watching Danny through the binoculars…**

**The Talent: Yeah! Now you know why. Impurity would be better labeled as Obsession or Templar now. :D**

**ShadowWarrior85: Congrats!**

**Jim89: I think you were probably the closest in your theorizing, back in Chapter #22: "I think they're bringing out possessive and protective Danny which server runs on similar to Dan protocols."**

**EDIT: Just fixed some grammatical issues. I was half-asleep when I uploaded it the night before. :D**


	26. Lady Luck

**A/N: Chapter #26~! I'm going to apologize in advance – I HAVE told you guys that I'm awful at fight scenes, right? I hate them. I just want to say "They fought and _ won. Yay." ;P Anyway, I'm sorry that the last chapter was a little confusing. I hope this one isn't so…but hey, the next chapter is the Epilogue!**

**HEB807: Probably. Not sure…Definitely not for the same reasons, though. Plasmius isn't that noble. **

**Guest: Please remember to choose a specific nickname when you review. You are not the only "guest" here. In regards to Death: No, I don't think he's canon. However, the personification of death is a nearly world-wide phenomenon and is very common. It's only natural that he's shown up in more than one fic.**

**KuriMaster13: The best way to follow that conversation is to remember: **_Italics_ **= Impurity. Bold = Death. **Underline** = Spirit. **Plain **= Humanity. Also, quick appearance note: We don't see Death, but Impurity is black-haired-red-eyed Danny. Humanity is blue-eyed Danny. Spirit is Phantom.**

**Moon's Meow: I'm not sure if he's the type to retaliate, or if he's more like Clockwork and less prone to get involved. He might show up again, he might not. We'll see. :D**

**Thankfully, most of you showed positive reactions to Impurity, rather than Dan. I didn't want it to be Dan. I think Danny's overcome the primary struggle with Dan, and I'd rather focus on other things.**

Chapter #26: Lady Luck

"Danny…no," she pauses, "Impurity, you don't have to do this. You can't. You said that you do whatever protects Danny, but if you kill someone…he'll blame himself. Can he handle that?"

"We can't let them live," he replies quietly, the tip of his sword still resting in the hollow between Ramirez's collarbones, "They have to be…eliminated as a threat."

"Then let me do it," the words fall from her lips before she can think.

"I told you," he growls, his eyes sparking a brighter shade of red beneath his black bangs, "I…Danny…we're the only one you're allowed to kill. We're not sharing you."

_How _should_ I scare you?_

"It's the same…" she whispers, "That day…in Circus Gothica…"

"Oh, so you've noticed?" he laughs, "Yes, I believe that was the first time we actually met…even if it wasn't completely by my own discretion. While I had to comply to Freakshow's orders, he was always…vague. I worked out details on my own."

"So he wasn't controlling Danny…he was controlling _you_."

"Bingo!" he grins, showing his sharp teeth, "And then I had that staff in my hands, all that power…the ghosts I could've commanded! But then _someone_ had to fall from the train. Yet again, _you _ruined everything."

"So why do you keep that sword pointed at Ramirez, huh?" she snaps weakly, "If I'm the one who keeps foiling your plans?"

"Because," he frowns, "As much as I hate you…for every molecule of me that hates you, I have another two that crave you like a drug. I'm Danny's obsession, remember?" his voice breaks softly, and the sword lowers, "I'm Danny, as much as he is. He wasn't kidding, Samantha, when he said he loved you with every fiber of his being. Even the part of him that _wants to hate you_, the part that wants to blame you for _every_ misfortune he's suffered…_can't_," he stabs the blade into the deck of the ship.

"Impurity…"

Within the blink of an eye, he's suddenly in front of her, his lips on hers.

"In the same breath that I want to kiss you senseless, I want to wrap my hands around your throat. I want to tear you limb from limb, but I also want to feel you beneath me," he breathes, his voice strained, "I'm going to tear myself in half at this rate!"

Heat rises in her cheeks, "You—"

"I _am_ Impurity, Samantha," he chuckles against her neck, "Humanity is merged indistinguishably to Spirit. His fantasies are boring. Trust me," he growls, "anything interesting is _mine_."

"Oh, and how are his boring?" she challenges, "Give me an example."

He lifts his head, an arrogant smirk splitting his face, "It's the more typical white-picket-fence. You've seen them. Cuddling in the sunset, holding hands and walking on the beach…"

"And what are yours?"

"Are you going to make that an order, My Queen of Thorns?" he rumbles, lifting her chin with a finger.

"_Oh,_" she smirks, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, "So you've decided to rule with me?"

"Your most dedicated slave," he lifts her fingers to his lips, "For as long as you're mine."

"…I'm up for a threesome if you are," Ramirez interjects after a few moments of silence.

Sam sighs, "…You should've stayed quiet."

"We _do_ still need to decide on their fate," Impurity growls, vanishing from her embrace, only to appear, hovering, in front of Ramirez once again, "I'm still up for killing them."

"But think about Danny – or rather, about Humanity," she argues, "You know him as well as I do. Maybe even better. Do you think he'll be able to shrug it off? He's already paranoid about becoming _him._ If you kill them…"

"And _you_ killing them isn't an option," he rumbles, "I've made it perfectly clear – you're _ours_."

"What if we promise to keep our mouths shut?" Ramirez inquires, "We'll all disappear underground, and our lips will be sealed."

"Until someone offers enough money," Impurity snarls.

"I'd rather keep my life," he argues, "I don't need a ghost hunting me down."

"As if we'd trust a _pirate_," she snorts.

"I'm curious, though, kid," he shrugs, "Why did you leave Burgess behind?"

"I figured Tucker would prefer to have an opponent," Impurity grins, "I can't take all the fun for myself, can I?"

"He knows your secret," he challenges, "He can spread it through the internet, and then you'll _never_ be able to hide!"

"Unlike you and Kovich, Burgess isn't motivated by a love of chaos and bloodshed," Impurity retorts, "I'm sure that he and Tuck can…come to an agreement," he wrenches the blade from the deck, the ice screeching against the metal.

"Don't kill them," Sam pleads, "You'll destroy Danny. You'll destroy _yourself_."

"There's no other viable option," he growls, "What do you think will happen if they end up in government hands? Do you want me to end up on a dissection table?!"

"I doubt they want to end up in prison," she counters.

"If it isn't the government, it'll be spread through the criminal underground. Then the CIA or another government agency will hear the whispers. The whispers saying that Daniel Fenton is a ghost hybrid. Tell, me, Samantha!" he shouts, "What else can I possibly d–"

A shot rings through the air, piercing through the halfa's left shoulder. He falls to the deck, the sword clattering against metal. He quickly presses his hand to the wound. Kovich stands on the other side of the craft, a revolver in one hand.

"How did you–?" Sam begins.

"Good work, Ramirez," the captain pants, lifting a vial of blood-red liquid. More of the same paints the spot where he once sat, tied by ghostly restraints, along with shards of glass.

"Thanks, Boss," he smiles, "Mind helping a fellow out, though?"

"Sam…" Danny gasps, his eyes flickering between blue and red, "Sam, help me…"

"Danny!" she begins to move closer, but a hole is punched into the deck in front of her.

"I think not," Kovich sneers, "You don't move an inch, understand? I have more bullets soaked in the poison, and I _can_ and _will_ shoot him again if you don't listen to me. I want you to put your gun down. Move slowly."

She slowly crouches, placing the Glock carefully on the deck, before rising just as slowly, her hands over her head.

"Kick it away," he orders, and she obeys. He creeps closer, his revolver now trained on Sam, until he spills a few droplets onto the glowing ropes that bind his cohort. Ramirez, freed from his restraints, rolls his shoulders.

"I'll get Ross," he accepts the vial from his mentor.

"Only if he's not having an episode," the Russian adds, "Leave him tied up if his head's not clear. He'll just impede us otherwise."

"Yes, Captain," he nods seriously, watching the two teens as he strides to the former soldier. Ross stares straight forward, his eyes far away.

"Ross?" he crouches.

"John Ross, I'm a U.S. soldier. Two-thirty-eight, forty-five, fifteen-fifty-six."

"Come on, Rossy," Ramirez sighs, "Come back to the present. You're with Captain Kovich and I, remember?"

"John Ross, I'm a U.S. soldier. Two-thirty-eight, forty-five, fifteen-fifty-six."

He sighs, "It's no good, Boss."

"Then leave him as he is for now."

"Yes, Sir."

"I should have just kept you depowered and taken off. We would've gotten a good payout. Or just gotten a ransom for the boat as originally planned. Now I'm floating around _who knows where_ with a rabid ghost and his girlfriend!"

"What's wrong, Kovich?" Danny laughs weakly, his eyes still flickering between blue and red, "You wanted to know everything about the ghost zone, didn't you? Well, what better way than to drag you there?"

Sam looks around carefully, looking for familiar shadows, "We're _way_ out here, Danny. You could've chosen somewhere more…instructive."

He chuckles, but it turns into a cough.

"How do we get back?" Kovich demands, his weapon still trained on Sam.

"Gee, I wonder," Danny strains, his eyes red, "Why don't you ask your precious Lady Luck for guidance?"

Kovich's face contorts with rage, "She's not sailing with me anymore."

_::Hold your breath, Sam,::_ Danny whispers mentally, his eyes blue once again.

She takes a slow, deep breath, and Danny's hand wraps around her ankle. Everything goes white as Kovich fires, the thunder reaching her ears as she watches him from behind.

_::What the…?::_

_::I'll explain later,:: _Danny pants, _::Just get him. I didn't train you for nothing, did I?::_

She lashes out with a foot, catching him in the knee. He mutters something in Russian – probably a curse – and swivels his gun on her again. She ducks beneath his outstretched arm and jams a knuckle into the nerve at the base of the arm. The weapon falls, and she kicks it away with her heel. Kovich massages his arm, trying to restore feeling to the limb.

"Not bad," he growls.

"I was taught well," she smirks.

Danny pulls himself against the railing with a grunt, leaving a bloody handprint behind. His body feels hot, and the wound in his shoulder is still bleeding. He keeps his ghost half shoved as far down as he can. Even now, he finds it hard to catch his breath – the teleportation, even with its minute range, had sent a wave of pain through his body, setting every nerve on fire.

He smiles as Sam dodges a punch and rams an elbow into Kovich's stomach. However, movement behind them catches his attention.

Ramirez pulls a knife from his boot and begins to circle around towards Sam.

Danny lifts himself to his feet, black collecting at the edges of his vision momentarily. _I'm in the Infinite Realms and I can't even absorb emotions in this state,_ he laughs internally, _my luck is the worst._

"Well, well," Ramirez smirks, "You _can_ stand."

"It's my nature," Danny grunts, "I get slammed into walls, punched through buildings, thrown hundreds of feet into the ground…I'm the hero, you know? I have to get back up."

"Sounds painful," he coos, tracing the edge of his knife, "Perhaps I should just put you out of your misery?"

"I'll be fine once these stupid blood blossoms wear off," Danny laughs, "You'd be amazed at what I can heal from in the Ghost Zone."

Ramirez lunges, slicing at Danny's neck. Danny shifts inches to the side, his hand snapping up to grasp his opponent's wrist. He begins to twist, but Ramirez drops the knife, catching it in his other hand and stabbing at Danny's midsection. The halfa turns, ramming his knee into his stomach.

"This reminds me…" Danny growls as the knife slices shallowly across his calf, "you said some things about Sam."

"She's even better than I thought," Ramirez grins, avoiding a fist thrown towards his jaw, "just look at her!"

Her hair fans out around her as she twirls in a kick to Kovich's jaw. The captain blocks with a thick arm, but Danny knows that the impact of her steel-toed boot _has_ to hurt. A bruise is forming on her cheek. Her hands are still red and bleeding from her rappelling attempt, but she doesn't show any sign of pain.

"She's pretty awesome," Danny smiles, flipping him over his shoulder. The knife skitters across the ground, along with something else that catches the halfa's attention.

_The ring!_ He yelps, watching it bounce and roll towards the railing. He lunges for it, leaving the stunned Ramirez on the deck.

It bounces over the edge just as his fingers close around it, and he slows the heart thudding in his chest. He leans back against the railing with a groan, noting the blood leaking from his shoulder that soaks the left side of his shirt. More blood stains the calf of his right leg. Ramirez groans and rolls onto his stomach.

"Not bad, for a guy who can barely stand," he gasps.

"My stubbornness is one of my defining traits," Danny retorts, pocketing the ring and pulling himself up again, sitting on the railing with one legs crossed over the other, "I've been known to support myself of pure willpower."

"Have you?"

"Yeah. How do you think I defeated Pariah Dark?" He can feel the blood blossoms beginning to fade. _It was only a trace amount on that bullet,_ he smirks, allowing his cold core to rise a little higher, _maybe my luck isn't so bad._

Ramirez lunges towards Kovich's discarded pistol, his fingers closing around the handle as Danny freezes it in place. A curse hisses between his teeth.

"Ah-ah-ah," Danny clicks, beginning to absorb small amounts of emotion from the Ghost Zone around him, "I'm not going to let that happen," his eyes flick towards Sam and Kovich, where Sam prepares herself to take a punch, "Or that," he waves his hand, and Kovich flies back as his fist makes contact with the flat green shield. Ice creeps up from the deck and entraps the two pirates.

"About time, Danny," Sam pants, "I was wondering how long I'd have to wait."

"Sorry," he rubs at the back of his neck, "I…well, I suppose you know the whole deal now, don't you?"

"Were you ever going to tell me?" she whispers.

"I think so," he replies softly, "but I wasn't sure how to bring it up…it was…_really_ personal, Sam."

"I understand," she smiles, "But we still have to wonder…what will we do with them?"

He frowns, glancing over the three pirates. Ross is still tied securely, while Ross and Ramirez are retrained by icy manacles, "I don't know. Impurity was right – the cleanest solution would be to kill them, but I'm not going to do that, and I'm not letting you do it. We could leave them here, let them drift around. That's a bit cruel, though. They'd starve to death all the way out here."

"It's a pretty big problem, Danny," she sighs, leaning against the railing beside him.

"Maybe we can give them to Dora and her prison. Walker's out of the question – he'd let them loose in the mortal realm just to spite me."

"Dora might work," she agrees.

"I'm not sure if I'd wish that on her though. Or Frostbite."

"So you want to get rid of them without burdening anyone or killing them," she clarifies.

"Yeah," he frowns.

"Then you _do_ have a problem."

"Having a secret identity sucks."

"Sorry."

"I am too."

They sit in silence for a moment.

"So…you can open portals to the Ghost Zone now, huh?"

"Apparently," he laughs, "…what if I sent them to a different time?"

"So you want to visit Clockwork?"

"No," he grins, "remember? Portals in the Ghost Zone travel through space _and_ time. It's why so many boats and planes go missing in the Bermuda Triangle – it tends to create ghost portals."

"So you're saying that open one up to another time and toss them through?"

"…that's a bit irresponsible, isn't it?"

"I'd say so."

"So..."

"I say we leave them with Pandora. She's tough enough to handle them."

"But–"

"I doubt it'll change her life at all," she snorts, "Dora would have to worry about them teaming up with Aragon, but Pandora? She'll be fine."

"Sounds like a plan," he grunts, twirling a finger. The boat begins to turn, "Want to fly ahead and warn her? Maybe she can send something to make this faster, because it'll take _days_ to putt over there at this rate."

"Yeah," she laughs, "Just keep a sharp eye on them, okay?"

"Definitely," he agrees.

She flies away, in the direction he'd pointed her, and he turns to Kovich once she's out of sight.

"It may be ectoplasmic in origin," he smirks, "But the blood blossoms aren't going to melt this ice, Ramirez. Nice try, though."

"So, what, are you going to kill us while she's gone?" he challenges.

"Nope," Danny empties the chamber of the revolver, leaving only one round inside, "but you might be a little worse for wear when she gets back," he slides from the railing, spinning the chamber and pressing the barrel against Kovich's knee, "So…tell me, Captain Yulian Kovich," he begins, the smallest flicker of red showing in his eyes.

"Do you think your Lady Luck is going to favor you right now?"

**A/N: I told you. I hate writing fight scenes. I'm awful at them. Maybe it's because I feel that if two well-trained people really duke it out, it's not going to last forever. Fights happen pretty quick. Especially once someone starts getting his ghost powers back. Two little unarmed humans are not going to fare well against an angry halfa.**

**I giggled like an idiot when the ring went bouncing across the deck. Ramirez was still keeping it in his pocket. I feel like it has a tendency to go bouncing away at the most unfortunate times. Danny wasn't worried about the ocean as much, but the Infinite Realms are…well…Infinite. It could LITERALLY fall forever and he might never catch up to it. Not a concept he found interesting.**

**ShadowWarrior85: You genius, reading my mind. :D I hope it doesn't mean I'm getting predictable!**

**Anyway, next chapter is the final chapter, and it'll be back to my Amethyst Ocean fluffiness, probably some Tucker/Val…I read somewhere that their ship name is Hunter Silly…but I don't like that. Let's come up with some better ones, why don't we? It doesn't fit my Val and Tuck. ****J****I'm looking forward to your submissions.**

**Oh, and someone that you've all been looking forward to will be showing up in the Epilogue in preparation for Crown of Fire…**


	27. Epilogue

Epilogue

"I said I wouldn't _kill_ them. _Hurting_ them was my little concession to Impurity."

"You _maimed_ Kovich. Probably for _life_, Danny!"

"Ramirez would never leave him behind. But Kovich would leave the other two behind without a second thought. It was a countermeasure. He won't be escaping after getting kneecapped."

"What are you, the mafia?!"

"Well, actually, I think there _was_ some Italian blood on my mother's side–"

"_Danny_," Sam scolds.

"Okay, really, I was hoping _Ramirez_ would get the bullet, but it's better that Kovich got it."

"And why was that?" she asks, her eyes narrowed, "Was it something that happened while you had me walled out?"

His jaw clenches, green and red swirling briefly in his eyes, "Yeah."

_"__I'll let you watch. Do you think she'll call out for you?"_

"…Danny?" she asks cautiously, placing her palm on his cheek, "…are you okay? Your eyes…"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he closes his red eyes, and they return to blue.

"So…am I going to have to watch out for Impurity taking control from now on?"

"I don't think so," he shrugs, "There was always a little bit of a rift, but I really stretched it after the future incident. I was scared that he was…" he swallows, "but I think we're pretty okay now. I know he's there, and I accept that. He's part of me. I think the better question is…" he swivels his gaze on her, "Are _you_ okay with that?"

"I kissed him, didn't I?" she smirks.

He laughs, "Yeah, I suppose you did."

They make their way down the steps into the garden, towards the marble pavilion. Pandora has provided a shower, and Danny's spent some time patching up the worst injuries, but the blood blossoms had left him weaker than usual, so some bruising still marred their skin, along with a few new scars.

She'd also provided new clothes – though not a modern style. Sam wears a Grecian, long violet _chiton_, with a black _himation_, and black sandals. Danny wears something more of a Medieval European descent. A mid-thigh length black tunic, with dark grey trousers and black boots. A white cloak is secured by a silver medallion with an emerald at his shoulder.

"So…what was it that you went chasing after on the ship?" she presses, a knowing smile on her face, "I thought I heard something…but I was a little preoccupied, so I may have misheard…"

He swears, "Well, that ruins everything. I had it all planned out, the romantic sunset over the ocean, just the two of us in a remote corner of the deck while everyone was eating…" he swears quietly once again, "Well, that was another reason to put a bullet into Kovich's knee."

"So, Danny, are you just going to talk about it, or are you going to take advantage of Pandora's _gorgeous_ garden pavilion?"

He fingers the ring in his pocket with one hand and rubs at the back of his neck with the other. He swallows thickly, and takes a deep breath before beginning to laugh, a large grin splitting his face.

He drops to one knee, pulling the ring from his pocket.

"I know I am probably not the most attractive man on earth at the moment," he begins, "I probably look like death warmed over, even after the shower and change of clothes provided by Pandora, but…" he swallows, "Samantha Faith Manson…will you marry me?"

She slips her finger into the offered ring, "Of course!" she flings her arms around his neck, slamming her lips to his. He laughs, lifting the two of them into the air with a swirl of fabric.

"So…do you like it?" he asks quietly, his forehead against hers. She lifts her hand, admiring the new ring.

"It's perfect. How did you find something _this_ me?" she asks.

"I had it made, just for you," he chuckles, "I now know more about women's jewelry than _any_ straight man should."

"It's perfect," she kisses him again.

Something flashes in their peripheral vision, "_Wow_, so I missed the big event? What gives, man?!"

"Sorry, Tuck. I didn't think you'd get here this fast," Danny apologizes, turning to where the technogeek waits, a camera in his hand, "And I wasn't planning–"

"I pushed him into it," Sam smiles.

"Well, look at you," Tucker smirks, "You need to stop listening to her, Danny. Every time you do, something dies. First you end up half-dead, and now your bachelorhood is officially on its deathbed. Way to go!"

"Paulina's going to be _crushed_ when she sees her ghostly beau with a wedding ring," Sam worries mockingly.

"Yeah," he laughs, "try not to look _too_ triumphant, or you'll blow his cover. So, Danny, did you talk to her parents?"

Danny's smile falls from his face, "I…didn't exactly have time…" he winces.

"Dude–"

"I wouldn't want him too anyway!" Sam scowls, "They'd just freak out. Mom would, anyway. I'm not their property, they have no right to tell me who I can and can't marry."

"Sam," Tucker dismisses, "Everyone says 'permission,' but they _really_ mean 'blessing.' Don't get your dander up. It's a formality, that's all. So…how are you going to break it to them?"

"Carefully," Danny squeaks, pale as snow, "very carefully."

-BREAK-

Small feet skip up the steps to Fentonworks, followed by smaller paws. Black hair, pulled into a ponytail, swishes in the cool spring air. Her breath puffs over a red scarf, and she pulls her beanie tighter to her head before ringing the doorbell.

"Be good, Cujo," she strokes her companion's green head, "Don't jump."

"Hello?" A woman opens the door, her short, orange hair a halo in the light of the house.

"Hey, I'm here to see Danny. Is he around?" she asks.

"Yeah. Come inside," she smiles warmly, "It's cold out there."

"Can my dog come?" she asks, "I promise he'll behave."

"Of cour–" she blinks rapidly, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, I know he's a ghost. He's a good boy though, I promise," she smiles sheepishly.

"Y-yeah. Come on. Danny's in the kitchen," Maddie Fenton holds the door open wider, and lets the little girl in.

"Danny!" she jogs to the kitchen, Cujo on her heels, "I've come–woah, what happened to _you_?!"

Danny is slumped on the table, his shadowed eyes more pronounced than usual, and bruises staining his skin. His cheek is red, and his skin is pale. Sam sits beside him, while Tucker and Valerie sit across.

"My parents just tried to kill him," Sam answers simply.

"Your _mom_ tried to kill me," Danny groans, "On the bright side, Grandma Manson seemed enthusiastic."

"My dad didn't attack you," she adds.

"No," he agrees, "He only threatened bodily harm. I think that's supposed to be normal, though. Wait…_Danielle_?!"

"Uh, _yeah_," she snorts, "Do you have _another_ female clone laying around?"

"Danielle!" he laughs, leaping from his seat. They hug, and Danny stoops to pet Cujo, "He's been good, right?"

"Never leaves my side," she smiles.

"You've gotten taller," he smiles, "You're _how _old now?"

"How long have I been around, or how much am I including the aging process I was put through?"

"Both," he smirks.

"Let's see…" she begins to count on her fingers, "I'm not quite two…so…almost fourteen."

"Will you be sticking around?"

"No–" she begins.

"Oh, _yes,_ you will," he corrects, "Danielle, you can't go traipsing around the world forever."

"Danny…who is she?" Maddie asks.

"Oh, allow me to introduce you to my parents," he laughs, "Mom, Dad, this is Danielle. She's the result of one of Vlad's attempts to clone me."

"A…clone?" Maddie asks.

"Yeah," she replies shyly, "I was created by Vlad Masters. I thought he wanted to catch Danny so he could stabilize me…but he was just using me. Once Danny showed me that, I helped him escape and beat up Vlad."

"I used the Ecto-Dejecto to stabilize her," Danny pats her head, "Vlad was trying to melt her down into a puddle of ectoplasm."

"Ectoplasm?" she whispers, "So…she's…?"

"Yeah, I'm a halfa, like Danny."

"There's only three halfas – unless Vlad bit it in space, then there's just two – and we're both in this room."

"But…" she frowns, "When did Vlad clone you? We didn't have any contact with him when you were little, and she's at least twelve…"

"I've existed for two years," Danielle explains, "But I'm physically almost fourteen. Vlad used an aging process on his clones to make them Danny's age, but it made us all unstable. He stopped my aging at a younger age in an attempt to make me a more stable clone. I _did_ last longer, but I'd be long-gone if you and Mr. Fenton hadn't developed the ecto-dejecto."

"That was all Jack," Maddie corrects dully.

"What about fudge?!" he asks from around the corner.

"Have some," she pulls a square from _somewhere_ on her jumpsuit and gives it to her husband. He vanishes back around the corner.

"So…why are Sam's parents trying to kill you?" Danielle asks, turning her sapphire gaze on her older clone.

"We're not finished discussing this," he frowns, "You're staying in Amity Park."

"Just answer my question," she glares back.

Sam lifts her left hand, "We're engaged."

"Really?!" Danielle squeals, leaping across the table to wrap her arms around Sam's neck, "I'm so happy for you! When's the wedding?!"

They couple grimaces, "Sam's parents insisted that we wait a year," Danny sighs, "To see if 'the rose-tinted-glasses of high-school wear off'."

"Well…" Danielle clears her throat, "It could be worse. You could have to elope to Vegas."

"True," Sam nods, "It's probably for the best, but I'm still going to be counting down the days…all three-hundred-sixty-five of them."

"Same here," Danny groans.

"So…when are you guys getting married?" she leers at Valerie and Tuck, across the table. The cough, choking on their drinks.

"We're not–"

"We have a lot of things to do first–"

"We'll have to see what happens, you know?"

"We're not sure we want to–"

"Of course I love–"

"But we're not ready for that commitment."

Danielle smirks, "Okay, fine…I just better be one of your bridesmaids, Val."

"Yeah, you have my word on that, kiddo," Valerie smiles.

"So, Tuck," Danny leans back, "We're going to need some documents…"

"Yeah, we will," Tucker mirrors him, looking at Danielle, "But you know…I just acquired a hacker who can work with me. He used to work with pirates, but he has serious skills. Took me three hours to get even a toe into his network. I think he might be up to the task."

"I hope so," Danny smirks, "because a certain ghost-girl needs to attend high-school."

"I am _not_ staying! I'm _definitely_ not going to _school!_" Danielle shouts.

"This isn't up for debate, Danielle," Danny frowns, "I'm going to be off to college, and I can't be around to protect Amity. You, on the other hand, can be. You wouldn't leave me hanging, would you?"

"That's low," she growls.

"But you're going to need a cover identity," he continues, "So what better than the cousin of Danny Fenton? We'll need a story to explain why you're staying with my parents…"

"And official adoption papers," Tucker adds, "I'm thinking 'parents died in an accident, Fentons only living relatives.'"

"Yeah, that works," Danny grins.

"Danny, you can't just decide that your parents are going to adopt me!" Danielle shouts, hugging Cujo to her chest.

"I always wanted another little girl," Maddie smiles, wrapping her arms around Danielle's shoulders.

"See? Not a problem," Danny grins.

"Well…" Maddie steps back, "We'll have to make sure she's _ready_ for high school…if you're forging papers, make her a year younger than she is physically…so make her 'almost thirteen.'"

"No!" Danielle gasps, "I don't want to be _younger_!"

"You'll enjoy it later," Maddie assures, "I'll need to home-school you for a year to make sure you've learned everything you needed to before high school. Sound doable, Mayor Tuck?"

"Yeah," he grins, "Congrats, Danielle. You've got one heck of a teacher."

She glares up at Danny, "You can't make me. I can just fly away."

"I can find you," he replies evenly.

"And I will help," Valerie adds.

"And besides," he smirks, "Are you saying you can't do it? You've pummeled Vlad Masters, have complete control over your powers, and you're too scared of high-school? Too afraid of staying in Amity Park?"

"No," she defends, "It's just a waste of my time!"

"You've had your fun, Danielle. Now it's time to work," he admonishes, "It'll be good for you. You'll find friends, friends like Sam and Tucker or Val. You'll eventually meet a couple of friends you trust with your secret, and their support will mean more than you realize right now. Give it a try. Mom will make sure you can at least pretend you went to a normal middle school, and in a year, you'll start your freshman year of high school. It'll be hard, I'm not going to lie, because you'll be pulling double shifts of homework and ghost hunting. But my parents will be around to help you with the hunting, and the townsfolk are pretty used to ghosts, so there'll be less panic. I'll make sure that Lancer knows about you, and he'll make sure that the other teachers let you leave class when you have to."

"But, Danny…"

"Danielle," he pulls her close, "You don't have to be afraid. Would I ever betray you? Would Val?"

"No…" she whispers.

"We won't let anything happen to you. We're doing this because it's what's best for you. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," she sniffs, "Yeah, fine."

"I'll need you to watch Amity Park for me. I'm _trusting_ you with this. It's important to me."

"I know," she nods against his shirt, "But you're not leaving yet, are you?"

"No," he laughs, "I won't be leaving until the end of July."

"Okay," she pouts, "you better visit a lot."

"I will," he promises, "We can put you in Jazz's old room. Right?"

"Of course," Maddie smiles, "Come on. It's late. We'll work out more of the details in the morning."

-BREAK-

Maddie closes the door to Jazz's – now Danielle's – room softly. The little girl had slipped into some of Danny's old clothes from when he was her age and promptly fallen asleep, her ghostly canine curled in the crook of her legs.

She knocks on Danny's door, getting an acknowledging grunt in return. He reclines on his bed, his textbooks strewn around him, "Yeah, Mom?"

"She's important to you," she smiles.

"We _say_ cousin, but she's more like a little sister to me," he smiles, "here, let me show you," he leaps to his feet, striding to his desk. He opens a drawer, withdrawing an impressive stack of letters and postcards from all around the world, "We kept in touch – kind of – while she was traveling. I let her go, but…" he sighs, "She needs a home, Mom," his voice is soft, barely audible, "I could never stop worrying about her, and having roots _somewhere_ will keep her safe. Not having something to keep you grounded…" he shuffles through the stack.

"Safe from what, Danny?" Maddie inquires softly.

"Her obsession," he answers softly, "to be honest, I'm not sure if she has one. Her ghost half wasn't created like others. Regardless of whether she does or not, she needs something solid in her life to stand on. No one can make it through life without being blindsided. There will come a time when she'll need something to hold on to. It could be tomorrow, it could be more than ten years from now. Either way…" he looks out his window, "she's needs something to steady her."

"She has you," she comforts, "at least."

"I may not always be a permanent fixture," he whispers.

"It isn't easy to love a hero," she whispers, earning a smirk.

"No, it isn't," he agrees.

**A/N: Two updates in a single day! Yayz! You love me, and you know it. :D Not sure if I'm uploading Crown of Fire tomorrow or on Friday, but it'll be one of those. The first chapter is more than 5000 words, so look forward to it!**

**We have a throwback to the epilogue of Journey of Secrets at the end here.**

**So, we now have Danielle! Rejoice, fans! She'll be showing up a bit in Crown of Fire, and Jazz will play a bigger role too!**

**There wasn't as much Tuck X Val in this chapter as I thought there might be. I'm thinking that I'll call them Geeky Gray. Or, as (almost) suggested by QueenOfShadows: Cyber Hunter.**

**I've noticed how much love we have for Impurity. I'm thinking he'll definitely have to show up more. (More than Danny thinks he will.) Definitely a recurring character. I really had fun writing him, if you couldn't tell.**

**A big THANK YOU to all who've read Journey of Secrets (the prequel to this), and now Adrift! Be sure to check back soon for "Crown of Fire"! Either follow me or just check back soon. As I said: I'm not sure if it'll be uploaded tomorrow or Friday, but it'll definitely be up by Saturday.**

**Also, if you're looking for another DP fic to fill your time, remember my story, "The Funeral Singer". I don't update it as often, and it isn't my best writing, in my opinion, but I'm sure you'll find SOMETHING you like in it!**


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